


Hey Stupid I Love You

by LadyThatch902



Series: Tangential [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Stephen's Brother is creepy AF, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 53,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25862230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyThatch902/pseuds/LadyThatch902
Summary: Tony proposes to Stephen, Stephen gives him a non-answer. Perplexed, Tony decides to find out why - and discovers things about himself along the way.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Tangential [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723939
Comments: 59
Kudos: 114





	1. head first

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! Try as I might to get away from angst I guess it just comes with the territory. They'll be happy eventually. This story will focus on their daily lives, no one's in danger though Tony might reminisce. In my head canon Peter and Harley are Tony's surrogate (college-aged) sons, but he does still have Morgan and the new baby James with Pepper. Ironstrange forever!
> 
> _You've got a hold of me  
>  I'm diving in head first  
> Hoping I could love you so recklessly  
> It hit me like a tidal wave, I'm falling off  
> You got me hypnotized, mesmerized  
> Wrapped around your finger till the lights go low  
> You've got a hold of me  
> A hold of me  
> _  
> \- Christian French

Stephen came out of the closet to discover Tony down on one knee - baby James clutched to his side, his other hand holding out the gaudiest looking ring Stephen had ever seen. 

“Anthony Edward Stark, what on Earth do you think you are doing?” 

Tony grinned. 

“Will you marry me?”

* * *

Tony’s day had started innocuously enough. He woke sprawled in his king size bed, the satin sheets hugging his form while sunlight peeked through the bedroom blinds. Stephen had brought him a cup of coffee, cooled to perfect drinking temperature by the time he woke. 

He was optimistic. They’d had a good few months, and Tony was ready to reap the benefits. It had been difficult reconnecting after their encounter with the Vikhura but Tony didn’t think he’d worked harder on anything in his life. His therapist had been relentless, setting Tony on his personal speed-dial and it was embarrassing at first, but Tony found the tiniest things setting off his… emotional ‘episodes’ and was grateful to have a paid professional at his beck and call. 

Bruce Banner was probably more grateful than anyone that Tony had finally hired someone to talk to. Tony was completely dismissive of the time difference between New York and Bora Bora, and would call Bruce at any time of day he saw fit. Bruce quickly learned that when he missed a phone call from Tony, it would be followed by several texts and then eventually Natasha’s phone would start ringing. 

They decided to take turns - they could hardly say no to their friend, they knew he had been through hell and more in the last few months - but Tony was a _talker_ . He wasn’t particularly good at _listening_ , that wasn’t what these phone calls were about. Despite his appearance, Tony was incredibly visceral and required hours length conversations to sort through his feelings. It was exhausting, maybe, but Tony had done a lot for them over the years. 

After a particular marathon of a phone session with Bruce, Natasha, and his therapist, Tony was feeling pretty good. He slept well and he woke up happy. It was almost an alien feeling, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was doing something wrong. But he felt sure. Today was the day. Today was the day he was going to ask Stephen to marry him. 

It had been occupying his thoughts for quite some time. The smallest actions Stephen did gave him the fuzziest feelings and it was disgusting and thrilling all the same. He felt positively ill with lovelust sometimes, and he often wondered if he suffered from severe brain damage but hey - if he married a neurosurgeon / sorcerer supreme, at least he would be in good hands. 

They hadn’t _exactly_ talked about marriage specifically, but they had always discussed their lives in some semblance of a long term relationship. Tony had started a few conversations with ‘ _when we grow old_ ’ and Stephen had entertained him with a gentle laugh and maybe a stoic nod. Tony was usually quieted with a quick kiss on the lips, but the lack of protest always left his mind wondering. Could they actually go the extra mile? 

Stephen had been incredibly busy as of late. Tony knew he couldn’t ask extra-dimensional demons to reschedule their interventions but it would have been nice if they relaxed a little bit. There’d been some problems with a sorcerer in Nepal but Stephen assured him it was all over now. Stephen had been away for a while but now he was home, and Tony was happy. 

Tony had been entertaining the idea of “retirement” and while he knew the stationary life would never be for him, he admitted he needed to start delegating his responsibilities. Even Pepper was slowly doing less at Stark Industries, choosing to spend more time with kids. They had both been working so hard their entire lives (Pepper more than him, for sure) they were facing a strange moment where they had to finally examine what to do when they weren’t working. 

At first it seemed easy. Tony had a million projects going on at any time and frankly it didn’t matter if any of them made money. But he’d always been motivated by doing the next project that seemed _urgent_ and he’d gotten his nanoparticle technology to a point that it didn’t need much tweaking anymore. 

Even Peter and Harley were doing well. Under the strict tutelage of Steve Rogers, Harley was developing great warrior instincts and Peter was becoming less trigger happy. It was a great program for everyone involved, and Tony was happy he didn’t have to witness it. After the first few sparring sessions with Harley, he decided maybe he wasn’t the best person to teach Harley hand to hand combat. The kid played dirty, and it took every ounce of Tony’s patience not to knock him out a few minutes in. Harley had a bunch of unresolved issues (maybe a few with Tony), and it caused a lot of emotionally driven sessions. Rogers, at least, was a damn robot; Harley did better sparring with him. 

While Tony was winding down his work and responsibilities, Stephen was increasing his. He’d been spending a lot of time at the Kamar Taj training new sorcerers, and a few had even moved into the Sanctum with Wong. Tony was happy to find an excuse not to stay at the Sanctum - he found it creepy, anyway. He much preferred staying in Stark Tower, or even staying at Pepper’s penthouse across the park if he felt too tired. 

When Stephen was home, he quickly slipped back into normal family life. With a day’s decompression at the Sanctum, Stephen would present himself the next day and would spend every minute with Tony he could. Morgan loved her Stephen and would take every opportunity to capture his attention. James would ebb and flow with his recognition of the sorcerer, but after this last bout home, James finally _really_ took to Stephen. It was a relief. 

Stephen didn’t like kids. But he loved Tony’s kids, surrogate or biological. Peter had started looking up to the sorcerer immediately, if not just for his impressive battle skills, but for his ties back to the medical community. Having switched from an engineering degree to biology, Peter happily trailed some of Stephen’s former coworkers at Metro Gen. When Stephen was around, he’d discuss what Peter had learned and even leant Peter several of his old medical journals. 

Harley was a different story. The kid had a definite chip on his shoulder, and while he was prone to displays of aggression or pyrotechnics, Stephen knew he had a good heart. It had taken them months 

to get on joking terms. Stephen was well aware that Tony felt a great deal of responsibility for the kid, but had a difficult time fostering a relationship at all similar to what Tony and Harley had. Instead, Stephen and Harley often butted heads and agreed to disagree on a multitude of things, simply resolving to be civil for Tony’s sake. It wasn’t until Stephen caught Harley launching potatoes off the balcony at Stark Tower that they agreed - if Harley was going to shoot veggies off a goddamn skyscraper, he better be portalling them to different dimensions so people in Central Park couldn’t be hurt. So Stephen opened portals just in time and it became a game they played when Morgan went to bed. Tony was pissed when he found out, mostly because they didn’t include him, but was happy they finally had something to bond over. 

It was the culmination of these things - Stephen getting integrated with his family, their schedules balancing (somewhat), and their own relationship growing stronger every day - that really pushed Tony to seek out a world-renowned jeweler in Kathmandu. Tony hiked a goddamn mountain while Stephen was away, and the metalsmith forged a replica of an ancient ring Tony thought Stephen liked. He could have bought the actual ring but thought it deserved to stay in the museum. He kept it hidden for weeks, waiting for the mood to feel right. 

Today was that day. Tony and Stephen had the kids for the day, as Pepper was taking the whole day off to get pampered before her birthday party. No matter how many times Stephen and Tony made a rigid schedule consisting of play time, nap time, and eating times, every _single_ time the schedule went out the window as soon as the kids arrived. Morgan wanted to play on her keyboard while James napped, James wasn’t hungry when Morgan was starving. Tony really had to take a shit but James was _wailing_ and couldn’t be consoled. It was chaos. It was exhausting. But through it all, Stephen maintained his composure, only showing slight frustration when James spit up on him a couple of times, and he was forced to change his shirt. 

* * *

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“I said,” Tony shifted his knee to better accommodate the baby wobbling against his chest. He held out the carved box with his other hand in earnest, a puzzled Stephen Strange still clutching two hangered dress shirts before him. “Will you marry me?”

Stephen’s brow remained furrowed. He shook his head and returned to his closet. Tony could hear him muttering to himself, mindlessly shifting hangers on the rack. Tony’s knee was slowly becoming numb and James was as impatient as ever, throwing himself backwards out of Tony’s grasp. 

“Hello?” Tony called out, perplexed. “Kind of an important question here?” 

When Stephen finally emerged from the closet, he was buttoning up a fresh selection and carefully not looking Tony in the eye. 

“We’re going to be late. Pepper will kill us.” 

Without another word, Stephen left the room. 


	2. House on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony reunites with some old friends. Trouble in paradise...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Baby, I'm a house on fire  
>  And I want to keep burning  
> Boy, I'm going up in flames  
> And you're to blame_  
> -Sia

They bickered on the drive downtown. Pepper had reserved some swanky restaurant in the village and Tony was fighting traffic through midtown. While Morgan and James were seated safely in the back of the Lincoln, Tony had one hand on the steering wheel, the other waving wildly to emphasize his point. Stephen wanted to leap out of the car and jump into traffic, but the snail’s pace at which they were traveling wouldn’t give him the peace he wanted.

“Give me one reason!” Tony said loudly, his pointer finger wavering dangerously close to Stephen’s face.

“Tony, we’re not doing this right now -”

“One reason!”

“Will you keep your eyes on the road?” Stephen braced himself in his seat as Tony abruptly hit the brakes. A passerby gave them the finger.

“They’re on the road, trust me -” Tony snapped, keeping his eyes locked on the adamant wizard in the passenger seat. 

“But there’s so many _ pedestrians _ -”

“Look, this should be an easy yes or no answer. Either you want to fucking be with me or you don’t,” Tony glared at the sorcerer, willing him to give him a straight answer. 

“Daddy!” Morgan protested at the f-word.

“Sorry honey,” Tony said apologetically, looking at his daughter in the rear view mirror. Her little forehead was wrinkled and she pouted up at him. “But daddy  _ had _ to use a naughty word, because Stephen is being indecisive, which is -“

“Worse than being the world’s largest arsehole!” she finished proudly, her feet kicking Stephen’s seat. Stephen narrowed his eyes.

“ ‘Arsehole’?” 

“ ‘Arse’ isn’t a naughty word in the land of the free,” Tony smirked. 

Stephen scoffed and looked out the window. He avoided answering Tony’s questions directly, citing not wanting to get into it in front of the kids. Morgan was listening keenly. She would absolutely be reiterating this conversation to her mother later. 

It wasn’t fair. Tony had done everything  _ right _ . He’d fixed himself, fixed their relationship. He’d stopped drinking  _ so _ much and was being good. He hadn’t even pissed off Steve Rogers in months! He didn’t know why Stephen was being so reluctant, normally it was Tony that was the dismissive one. Maybe Stephen was nervous about going to Pepper’s birthday party? But this was supposed to be a small affair, maybe just with Happy and her parents. 

Maybe Stephen didn’t really love him. Maybe Stephen was just using him for sex, or for comfort, or for any myriad of reasons that Tony conjured on the walk to the restaurant from the car. He zoned out while he held James, not paying attention to whatever Stephen was rattling on about. Maybe Pepper was right, that he’d never truly find love until… until… ok, he couldn’t exactly remember what she had said about that but maybe she was right. 

Stephen stopped him in front of the restaurant doors. 

“Give me the baby.”

“Why? You don’t trust me?” Tony protectively held onto James even harder. Stephen was just getting on his nerves, even if he was using his super smooth baritone voice to try to sound more comforting. 

“No, I’m just asking you to please give me the baby.”

“Why?”

“I swear to God you’re worse than a toddler, just let me take the baby inside!” Stephen snapped. Seeing that Tony was being stubborn as ever, Stephen reconsidered his approach. “Do you trust me?”

Tony thought for a minute. “Maybe earlier. Maybe not now. Depends on the time of day.” 

Stephen held his hands out, beckoning Tony to give up the child. Wordlessly, Tony relented. 

“I mean, that doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine.” 

Morgan grabbed Tony’s hand and he swung open the restaurant doors. 

  
  


The entryway was completely dark. Tony was sure this is the restaurant Pepper had made plans at, so he was confused as to why it seemed they were closed. With one hand holding Morgan’s hand, he felt along the wall hoping there was a light switch. 

“This is… odd,” Tony decided, and just when he thought he’d found it the lights flickered on and all of a sudden he was looking at a room full of Avengers and his friends. 

“SURPRISE!” They shouted almost in unison, and Tony stumbled backwards, clutching his arc reactor. 

“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered, and Stephen leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Aren’t you glad you weren’t holding the baby?” Stephen gave him a peck on the cheek and moved to join the throng. 

“What is all this?” Tony looked around for a familiar face and Pepper moved forward to embrace him. 

“Happy birthday,” she said soothingly. 

“A couple of months early,” he flattened the front of his suit and released Morgan from his deathgrip. She sprinted off, hardly giving him a second look. “And anyway, this is  _ your _ birthday. Your fucking fiftieth!”

“Yeah, well, your fiftieth birthday party was cancelled, so I thought it’d be nice to celebrate ours together,” she smiled and he couldn’t rip the baffled look off of his face. The hell was she on about?

“I didn’t have a party for my fiftieth,” he scrunched his nose, trying to remember if he’d blacked out or something. Nothing came to mind, so he looked to his ex-wife for explanation. 

“You  _ would have _ ,” she said, letting the words hang in the air for him to finish. That’s right - he  _ would have _ if he hadn’t run off with Stephen Strange and she filed for divorce right around then. “So come on. Get that frown off of your face and let’s have a good time.” 

Tony was overwhelmed. He hadn’t seen some of these people in years. There were old classmates from MIT, fellow NYC socialites, former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Several of Pepper’s minions from Stark Industries were there, and Tony scowled as he recognized a particularly annoying intern. He’d hit on Pepper relentlessly, gotten fired, promised it was all a giant misunderstanding and then hired  _ back _ . Tony didn’t understand how that kid still had a job, but it was all Pepper’s problem. 

To his even greater surprise, all of the Avengers had made it. Steve was there with his girlfriend Sharon, Thor with the raccoon for some reason, and Tony’s favorites - Bruce and Natasha. 

“Hey there big guy,” Tony pulled Bruce in for a bear hug. “What brings you stateside?”

“This, of course! We were so excited to get the invitation,” Bruce smiled widely, patting Tony on his good shoulder. Tony had spent a lot of hours speaking with Bruce over the phone in the last few months, so it was bizarre seeing him in person. They’d talked about everything - life, death, and love, and everything in between. Tony felt closer to him since they moved away than when they lived in the same city.

“Couldn’t have mentioned anything about this last week, huh?” Tony half-joked. Bruce’s jovial face fell, his expression suddenly stern. 

“Pepper threatened us with our lives,” he said grimly. Tony believed it. Pepper seemed prim and proper on the outside but Tony knew she had a side that could bring any man to his knees. He found that all of the women in his life were forces to be reckoned with, which brought his attention to the former redhead (now blonde) idling at Bruce’s side. 

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet,” Tony turned to Nat, who silently sipped her drink. She smiled as warmly as she could. He could see that glimmer in her eye. She always looked slightly mischievous, like she was keeping a secret and would never tell. 

“Happy birthday, Tone,” she winked. 

“I’m gonna get some drinks! You all set, honey?” Bruce elbowed his girlfriend and then turned to Tony. “Martini?” 

“Scotch on the rocks, I’m starving,” Tony said. He watched as Bruce shot finger guns in the air and headed towards the bar. Natasha immediately let out a sigh of relief. 

“Ugh thank god,” she downed the rest of her drink in one go.

“All’s well in paradise, huh?” Tony was amused seeing his normally serious friend shed her pretense and let loose. 

“We’re moving back here,” Nat said nonchalantly, gulping down the remnants of ice in her drink. “If I spend one more day in that house with him, I’m going to murder him.” 

“Isn’t he invincible?” 

“I’d find a way.” 

Catching up with Nat in person was entirely different than a phone call. Recently, every time they chatted it’d been sort of selfish and Tony hadn’t been able to learn what Nat and Bruce had been up to. As it turned out, a whole lot of nothing. Nat was getting increasingly bored, and while Bruce was more than happy to work away in his basement lab, Nat hadn’t acquired any new hobbies and was slowly going stir crazy. 

It was getting to the point that she was taking out her boredom on Bruce, who, having mastered his angry friend quite well, could not be provoked and that angered her even further. She tried to focus on herself, tried to learn a few new languages or finally start gourmet cooking like she always wanted but Bruce’s relentless optimism was getting to her. She even considered just swimming back to the States but had to remember that unlike her superhuman friends, she was incredibly mortal. The day she planned to hijack a private plane, Pepper called. 

Tony was sorry they were having issues but he was positively  _ giddy _ to finally see them in person. Just watching Nat talk filled him with such longing for his friends. He missed all of them, and not even everyone in this room - but his core group of friends. The ones he confided in, the ones he went to battle with. The ones who had his back no matter what. He winced as he thought about Rhodey. If his birthday party had gone as planned those years ago, Rhodey would have been by his side. Rhodey  _ should _ be by his side. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony spotted Stephen making his way over with two drinks in his hands. Stephen had pawned off James on some poor soul, and while Tony was interested in where his son went, he was doubly interested in Nat and Bruce’s domestic problems. 

“Did you ask Stephen, by the way?” He heard Nat ask.

“Kind of-?” Tony managed, before Stephen arrived. 

“Natasha! So good to see you,” He sidled up to her and kissed her on the cheek. Smiling, completely unaware of their prior conversation, he handed Tony a scotch. “What’s up? How’s Bora Bora?” 

“Oh, Bora Bora is great!” Nat said louder than necessary. Tony could see her breaking apart at the seams, and it was painful to witness. “Every day is just like, ‘ _ hey honey, what do you want to do today? Snorkel and lie on the beach _ ?’ Never gets old.” 

Stephen entertained her a little while longer, and Tony tuned out while they caught up. He wasn’t sure if Stephen knew just how much he spoke to Nat and Bruce, or how much they knew about their relationship. Stephen was incredibly private and as far as Tony knew, didn’t have any confidantes. Tony was an open book when it came to his friends. He told them everything. But, Stephen just might be pissed if he knew how much Bruce, Nat, Pepper, and Steve  _ actually _ knew… 

For instance, just the other night he had been bouncing around the idea of the marriage proposal with Bruce and Nat. Bruce was all for it; suggested Tony do it quite publicly in a restaurant. Nat shot that down immediately and told Tony he ought to do it in private, maybe on a secluded beach somewhere. Tony was brimming with such nervous energy he leapt at the first chance he got - at home with some baby vomit. In retrospect, it might not have been romantic enough, but really - the environment should not have been a dealbreaker. Whatever reason Stephen had for not answering had to be a problem with his and Tony’s relationship. 

Bruce came back to the group, all smiles. After saying hello to Stephen, he tried to hand a drink to Tony, only to discover Tony already had one. 

“I’ll take it,” Nat said, and snapped the scotch out of his hands. Nonplussed, Bruce raised his glass. 

“Well, congratulations guys, you did it,” Bruce went to tap the rim of his glass against Tony’s, who quickly retracted his drink. Natasha audibly groaned and stomped on Bruce’s foot. “Ow! What?” 

“Read the room, Banner,” Nat grit through her teeth. Tony bit his bottom lip, Stephen studied the floor. Soaking in the glare from Nat, Bruce quickly figured out that Tony and Stephen were not, in fact, engaged. 

“Oh, f… well this is awkward,” Bruce broke out into a visible sweat and slowly lowered his glass, wiping his free hand in a circle on his chest. He looked from Tony to Stephen, avoiding the daggers Nat was throwing at him, and settled on taking the empty glass from her hand. “Round of drinks on me!”

“It’s an open bar!” Nat protested, but not before he scurried off again. 

“I have to go find Pepper,” Stephen fixed his face with the best smile he could muster and excused himself. Tony could feel the heat in his cheeks rising, but Nat clinked her glass against his and pursed her lips. 

“So... why do you want to get married? Again?” 


	3. Don't Start Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is exactly why you don't leave Tony alone with scotch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _If you don't wanna see me dancing with somebody  
>  If you wanna believe that anything could stop me  
> Don't show up, don't come out  
> Don't start (caring about me) now_  
> \- Dua Lipa

_Marriage_. It gave Tony pause while he considered Natasha’s question and to be honest, he couldn’t give exactly one answer. Marriage was an institution, a societal construct that didn’t have to mean anything beyond its legal bounds. So why did Tony want it so badly for him and Stephen?

It’s not like it had gone particularly well for him and Pepper. Sure, they played the part, knocked out a couple of kids and for a few years ran the most successful business empire in the United States, while also defending Earth from the biggest bad they’d seen thus far. They had their problems and it only became apparent when Tony decided to play for the other team and left Pepper in the dust. So why Stephen? 

He splashed water on his face. The party was raging outside, cake had been served and the kids had been picked up by their babysitter. Pepper had ordered a giant sheet cake with two tombstones affixed to the top - one with her name, simply saying ‘over the hill’, and the other with his, saying ‘basically dead’. He admired her sick sense of humor and put on his best smile for her when they blew out the candles together, but he couldn’t get rid of the overwhelming sense of gloom. 

The lighting in the bathroom was dim, the tiled off-white walls giving off a false impression of cleanliness but the fluffy hand towels were a nice touch. Tony watched the water swirl around the oversized basin, letting his mind wander as he studied the whirlpool around the drain. Stephen hadn’t said no. But he didn’t say yes, either, and try as Tony might, he knew Stephen wouldn’t give him an answer until later that evening, if at all. 

Tony’s parents' marriage wasn’t particularly inspiring, either. He knew they loved each other to the capacity that they could, but it was a very old-fashioned relationship and Tony would die if he was ever stuck in anything as stifling as that. Not that he got to know them as an adult, but from what he witnessed growing up, their relationship seemed formulaic, if not robotic. 

Howard spent many hours at the office instead of at home. Maria was busy enough in her own right, but Tony had seen how they acted at parties. Barely with each other but when it came time to be seen they’d act just like a normal happy couple. He tried to remember moments of affection between his parents but blamed it on a vivid imagination. Maybe he didn’t even have a good metric for what love even was and he was just projecting his fantasies onto Stephen. 

“Hey! What’s the matter with you?” The door slammed shut and Tony whipped around from the urinal to see Pepper, the familiar clacking of her heels echoing off the walls. Her skin glistened with sweat. The DJ had changed the tunes from throwback favorites to top twenty hits, and no one besides Peter and Harley knew the songs, but it appeared Pepper was dancing anyway. 

“Um… isn’t this the men’s room?”

“Answer my question,” she marched to his side, completely unfazed by the fact Tony was in the middle of relieving himself. Her concerned face loomed in his peripherals and he tried to concentrate on the task at hand. “You love big parties. Is something wrong?” 

Tony contemplated his situation. He was holding his dick while his ex-wife badgered him with questions. He had asked his boyfriend to marry him and didn’t get an answer. He was on the verge of having too much scotch to maintain his ‘happy’ attitude and while he was extremely pleased to see his friends, he couldn’t help but feel sad the only other really solid relationship he could think of was disintegrating before his eyes. How should he approach this? Was it better to be cheeky or sincere?

“Nothing’s wrong, I… you know I hate surprises,” he lied. 

“Oh, bullshit. What’s really wrong? You can talk to me. I’m here for you,” She always was. But he couldn’t talk to her about this. Whenever Pepper wanted a heart to heart he tiptoed around certain issues, mainly Stephen. Certain topics seemed fine to talk about - but he never wanted to give any indication to her that their relationship was anything but sound. After all, he had dismantled his seemingly functional relationship with Pepper for a chance to be with Stephen. He didn’t want to fuck it up. Zipping his fly, he turned around to face her. 

“I just had a bad day, okay?” He flashed her a quick smile, hoping it was convincing. 

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? You’re really dampening the mood out there.” 

She was, of course, referring to the fact that since the cake had been cut, Tony had slinked to the bar, pounded three drinks, and picked a corner to stare out at the crowd. Stephen was carefully avoiding him, managing to talk to every other idiot in the room and Tony only went to the bathroom to refresh himself when he noticed he was wobbling where he stood. 

“Sorry. Is this better?” He grinned wildly, baring as much of his teeth as he could. Pepper rolled her eyes and leaned against the counter as he washed his hands. She was used to him being a snarky asshole, but she could tell something was truly bothering him. 

“Is it Stephen?” She persisted, folding her arms.

“Uh… no,” Tony took too long to answer and Pepper zeroed in on his hesitance. 

“It is Stephen! What happened? Did you two fight again? Is this about that bedroom thing -”

“It is _not_ the bedroom thing, which I should not have told you about, ever -”

They were interrupted at that moment by the entrance of Phil Coulson, who, upon realizing he was intruding on a private moment, froze in the doorway. 

“Can we have some privacy here??” Pepper hollered, while Tony yelled, “Get lost, Coulson!”

The door to the bathroom shut as quietly as it opened and Tony shook his head.

“I always said that guy was the worst.”

“Well, I’m glad I have your attention for a minute because _even though you won’t talk to me_ I have something to tell you,” Pepper straightened her spine, her head only slightly towering over her ex-husband. 

“Shoot,” Tony knew they’d both been busy lately, any time they’d seen each other they’d just been handing off the kids and waving from a distance. As much as F.R.I.D.A.Y. kept tabs on Pepper’s comings and goings, Tony had to admit he actually had no idea what she’d been up to lately. 

“I’m seeing someone,” she said carefully, waiting for the fireworks to explode in Tony’s eyes. He shrugged instead.

“I’m happy for you Pep, it’s about time,” he squeezed her arm awkwardly. “Is it… someone I know?” 

“Yes, and that’s why I wanted to tell you in person before you found out from someone else,” Pepper was really good at being dramatic and drawing things out needlessly. Tony supposed that’s what came with spending twenty years with him. He waited with bated breath. “It’s happy.” 

“What is?” Tony blinked. 

“No, it’s _Happy_. I’m seeing Happy,” Pepper corrected. Now the fireworks could start. Pepper watched as Tony’s already blank face started twitching. His mouth gaped, trying to figure out a proper response. He frowned, then smiled freakishly wide again, confusing Pepper. 

“Well. That’s just…” He nodded, patting her on the shoulder. 

“Tony…” She reached out to console him, but he turned abruptly and exited the bathroom. He needed another drink. 

* * *

Everything was fine. Stephen was ignoring him, Pepper was blissfully happy and Tony was tub-thumping drunk standing by himself on the outskirts of the dance floor. Nat and Bruce had disappeared at some point in the night, and for a while Tony was longing for one of his friends to come chat him up. Everyone was busy with their significant others. It was almost like the party wasn’t about him at all. 

He didn’t know why he was being like this. One would have thought his experience in the Gorge with the Ancient One would have encouraged him to be more straightforward and open. But he was spiraling. _A man who has everything and nothing_. Why was Stephen pushing him away? Maybe he didn’t want to be with Tony forever. Maybe he just wanted the support while he started his “career” and was going to drop Tony as soon as he became the ultra mega Sorcerer Supreme or whatever. So what had the past couple of years even meant?

Pushing it out of his mind, Tony focused on the drink in his hand and the bodies on the dance floor. He could see Peter and Harley furiously having a dance-off, their friends laughing at or with them. Steve and Sharon were dancing at an inappropriately slow pace, waltzing through the crowd like no one else was in the room. The raccoon had yanked Bucky’s mechanical arm out and was weaving through the party-goers, Thor laughing uproariously while he drank every person bold enough to challenge him under the table. Tony knew if Rhodey was here he’d be silently judging every single one of them. 

He spotted the orange robes out of the corner of his eye - a sorcerer from the Sanctum had crept into the party, sneaking along the walls while he searched for the Sorcerer Supreme. Tony downed his drink and made his way towards him. Couldn’t Stephen just have one night off? He was going to intercept, to tell that fucker to go away. Even if Stephen wasn’t exactly talking to him, he deserved to be able to spend _one evening_ without being interrupted - 

“Excuse me, Mr. Stark?” A tap on the shoulder made him turn around. It was that goddamn intern. He was spindly. Tall and lanky, he sported a head of youthful brown curls, not entirely unlike pictures he had seen of Stephen when he was younger. He stuttered, he wanted to catch that sorcerer but when he turned to look again, he’d disappeared. He couldn’t spot Stephen anymore, either. Cursing, he turned his attention back to the annoying young adult. “I just wanted to introduce myself formally, my name’s Brett.” 

He held out a limp hand and Tony shook it awkwardly. He couldn’t imagine this kid hitting on Pepper any more than he could imagine him harming a butterfly. 

“I can see that you’re busy, but,” With the music thumping loudly in the background, Brett leaned in close to whisper into his ear. His clean shaven face brushed against Tony’s cheek, and Tony caught a whiff of expensive cologne. “If you want to have some fun later, come find me.” 

With a wink, Brett briefly ran his hand along Tony’s bicep, squeezing ever so slightly. Tony’s breath caught in his throat and he was thoroughly confused as he watched Brett disappear into the crowd. The fuck just happened? Shaking it off, he went to go find Stephen. 

  
  


After a little bit of go-around, Scott Lang confirmed that Stephen had, in fact, stepped through a portal with the other sorcerer. Tony groaned. So Stephen was going to just take off without a word again. Typical. Strengthening his resolve to enjoy the rest of the evening, Tony headed straight to the bar. Nothing was going to stop him now. 

A few drinks later, Tony found himself in the middle of the dance floor. He was flailing, or dancing, and maybe Peter was laughing at him because he’d been stuck doing _Vogue_! for the last three songs. People were getting drunk and sloppy, dancing too close or laughing too loudly. Tony was having a great time. He was vaguely aware of who was near him, much preferring to close his eyes and get lost in the rhythm of the music. Swaying his hips to the beat, he wasn’t surprised when he felt firm hands snake around his abdomen. He felt someone grind their excitement against his clothed ass and he couldn’t help but smile.

He leaned back, basking in the comfort of the taller man’s arms while they danced. The hand feeling his abs traveled further south, brushing their fingertips against Tony’s burgeoning erection. However comfortable Tony was with his friends, he wasn’t comfortable enough for _that._ He quickly reached to cover the hand with his own only to realize it wasn’t who he thought. The hands were smooth, supple. Still masculine but… this wasn’t Stephen. Beginning to turn around, he felt a hot breath on his neck, a tongue trailing its way up his earlobe. A not-unfamiliar voice whispered in his ear, every word thick with lust, “ _I want you_.” 

Tony tried to detach himself as quickly as he could but Brett was insistent, and Tony squirmed to get himself out of his grasp. Catching his breath, he looked up at the other end of the dance floor and saw him. He was parting the crowd like Moses, marching towards Tony at a brisk pace. Stephen was here! As thrilled as Tony might have been, the sour look on Stephen’s face immediately deflated any sense of joy. 

Tony was in trouble. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. What's Stephen gonna do?


	4. Ode to the Conversation Stuck in Your Throat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, great. Now we have to kill you,” Tony sighed. “Unless you wanna join?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _I do not want to fight this anymore  
>  I just want to lay back  
> And watch you pin me to the bed  
> I used to call you my best friend  
> Way back before you were my everything  
> Now I'm sucking your neck  
> And it hits me  
> I don't want anybody else touching you like I do  
> _  
> \- Del Water Gap

“I can’t leave you alone for five minutes!” Stephen huffed, magic streaming from his fingertips. Happy was on the floor, helping Stephen restrain the struggling man. Bright orange ropes had wrapped around Brett as soon as Tony was clear, and the entire party had fallen silent watching the whole ordeal. 

“What can I say, I’m pretty,” Tony giggled. Stephen was not in the mood apparently; Tony watched as the magical constraints grew tighter and tighter. Brett’s face grew a deeper shade of purple, and he decided to intervene.

“Hey!” He waved his fingers in front of Stephen’s face. “Can we talk?” 

Stephen’s eyes flitted to Tony’s and in a second the ropes were gone. Happy hoisted the intern to his feet, still gasping for air, and hauled him roughly off the dance floor. 

“You’re _sooo_ fired now, buddy,” he could hear Happy say. “Whaddya tryna do, flirt your way up Stark Tower?” 

Tony could have laughed if he wasn’t looking at the menacing scowl on Stephen’s face. Stephen was so fired up from the interaction, his fine features ruffled and perturbed, but Tony was positively floating. Nothing really could have bothered him at the moment, but he had to have sympathy for Stephen’s clear misery. 

“Fine,” Stephen turned on his heel, his cloak dabbing at the spittle on his face. The crowd split again, and finally noticing the deafening silence, Stephen roared out, “What are you looking at? Enjoy yourselves, damn it.” 

* * *

Maybe it was the scotch coursing through Tony’s veins but he had to find the whole situation a little bit hilarious. It was an honest mistake, Brett was tall and peculiarly muscular, and at a party of Tony and Pepper’s closest friends, it’s not like he had expected anyone else to be grinding up on him. He followed the fiery sorcerer down the dark hallway, taking two steps for every one Stephen took. They stopped abruptly outside of a linen closet marked for employees only. 

“What are you -” Tony started.

“In,” Stephen commanded, and Tony shuffled inside as quickly as he could. The closet was more of a small room, containing shelves filled with tablecloths and napkins, a rack on the eastern wall holding chef coats and pants. The far wall was full of lockers, a short bench placed in the middle of the room. Tony nearly tripped over it as he heard Stephen lock the door. 

Before Tony could speak again Stephen captured his lips in a desperate kiss. His trembling hands cradled Tony’s head and Tony struggled to get a breath of air. Stephen pushed him against the lockers, pressing his body firmly into the compliant engineer. 

“What were you thinking?” Stephen growled, his hands quickly traveling south to unfasten Tony’s pants.

“Um… I wasn’t?” Tony didn’t think as he helped Stephen pull down his boxer briefs. Immediately, Stephen took his length in his hands and began to coax it back to life. Tony tried to focus on his breathing as Stephen fisted his cock, insistent and relentless. 

“Say the word and I will stop right now,” Stephen kissed him then. They’d had many conversations about consent since the Vikhura, and while Tony had his moments of vulnerability, this was definitely not one of them. He wanted this, and the beast growing in Stephen's pants told him he wanted this, too. He rutted into Stephen’s hand, hoping it was a satisfactory display of his desire.

“Highly unlikely,” Tony pulled down Stephen’s pants unceremoniously, exposing his rigid member. “Commando, I like it.” 

Tony slid down to his knees, taking Stephen’s cock into his mouth slowly. He lapped at the head, enjoying the frustrated groans he was gaining from the sorcerer. If Stephen wasn’t going to say ‘yes’, Tony was going to make him _beg._ Stephen moaned, his hands pulling at the collar of Tony’s shirt, but Tony didn’t relent.

“I need you,” Stephen said breathlessly, he was frustrated. He tried to encourage Tony to come up to kiss him, but stubborn as ever, Tony remained where he was and took Stephen further. He relaxed his throat and let more of Stephen in, earning a memorable moan from the sorcerer. Sucking in, Tony focused all of his energy on running his tongue the length of Stephen’s cock. He revelled in letting his tongue trace the vein that led to Stephen’s frenulum, taking a moment to tease him. 

“Tony…” Stephen let in a sharp intake of breath. He was falling. He didn’t want Tony to win this easily, but that incredibly capable mouth was working wonders on his cock and he was having a difficult time thinking. He’d come into the evening with a purpose, and it was all unraveling at the hands of a certain Tony Stark. 

Reasserting himself, Stephen bucked into Tony’s mouth and Tony took it as a hint. Finally, he worked his way up Stephen’s body and even though he was ready for something more, Stephen accepted Tony’s kiss. Stephen’s hands were everywhere - bunched up beneath Tony’s shirt, his hands traveled across the broad expanse of Tony’s chest. 

Stephen was hungry. He wouldn’t pretend for one second that he could stretch Tony in the time allotted, and based on Tony’s frantic movements, he gathered Tony wouldn’t want him to. With a flick of his wrist, Tony felt the immediate flood in his asshole - Stephen had stretched and lubed him, and he was ready. Gently taking Stephen’s cock into his hand, Tony slowly pumped it, letting Stephen get accumulated to his touch. 

Tony brushed his lips gently against Stephen’s, seeking permission for a kiss. Tony could feel the sorcerer’s breath shudder as Tony played with his cock. Smiling, Tony claimed Stephen’s mouth again. Their kiss deepening, Stephen couldn’t help but let out a low moan when he felt Tony spreading precum over the head of his cock.

“No more teasing,” Stephen rumbled, his voice low. “I’ll come right here.” 

“All over the clean laundry?” Tony tsk-tsked, but not before Stephen roughly pushed him around, flattening him into the lockers. Tony was about to protest when he felt Stephen get to his knees, parting his cheeks and then Tony felt it - one gentle swipe of Stephen’s tongue on his rim and Tony thought he was going to die. He knew he was moaning loudly as Stephen tongue-fucked his hole but damn, the man was extremely talented. Tony almost forgot he was kind of annoyed with him. 

Soon enough, he felt Stephen placing himself at his entrance. Tony bit his lip as he felt Stephen slowly work his cock in. It didn’t matter how many times they’d done this, it always felt like heaven. He never got over the butterflies, never got rid of the anticipation that came from waiting for his lover to take him. Tony almost came from listening to the sounds Stephen was making, appreciative grunts and groans while he became properly seated. 

Tony let out the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, then Stephen began to move. Slowly at first, Tony could feel his muscles clamp down on Stephen’s hard length, and he could feel Stephen pause as vibrations ran through his body. His hands were planted firmly on Tony’s hips, but as he pulled out again one hand landed on Tony’s cheek with a loud _smack_. 

“So tight,” Stephen grunted, enjoying the view. He fucking loved Tony’s ass. He also loved fucking Tony’s ass. 

“All yours, babe,” Tony wiggled his hips and Stephen rocked into him, changing the angle slightly, and when he hit that bundle of nerves Tony absolutely howled. He knew he should be quiet, be considerate. Maybe they shouldn’t be fucking in an employee room but after the total clusterfuck of a day, they both needed this. 

Stephen became more insistent, his rhythm speeding up. Tony was having a difficult time holding himself up against the lockers, his palms sweaty. He finally decided on hooking his fingers into the holes on the lockers - it would maybe cut off his circulation as Stephen pounded into him, but it would totally be worth it. Hearing Stephen let out a whine, he knew his lover was close. 

“Tony, I’m going to -” 

“Fill me up, sweetheart,” Tony encouraged, meeting Stephen for every thrust. He looked back to study Stephen’s face - his brow furrowed, lips pursed, eyes closed in concentration. Pretty as a picture. With a gasp, Stephen came. He rocked his hips slowly, his pulsating member emptying into his lover. He took a moment to collect his breath, but realizing Tony didn’t have an orgasm yet, he began to thrust again. Tony motioned for him to stop. “I have a better idea.” 

Turning around, Tony pulled Stephen in for a quick kiss before not-so-subtly pushing him to his knees. Stephen latched onto the idea immediately. He ran his nose along Tony’s throbbing cock. Even though he was ready to burst, Stephen just loved the scent of his arousal. 

“Ah ah,” Tony admonished when Stephen began to take him into his mouth. Confused, Stephen looked up. “I don’t want to come in your mouth,” Tony took his own length into his hand and began to pump it slowly. “I want to come on your face.” 

He didn’t think Stephen’s eyes could get any more dilated, the blue-grey iris barely visible. Stephen, unsure what to do with his hands, gently rubbed Tony’s legs and backside while Tony worked himself. Stephen snuck his tongue out occasionally, getting the smallest taste of Tony’s cock. Tony was whispering the dirtiest things to him and if they were home, Stephen would want to prolong this and take him again. 

But they weren’t home, and they were gently reminded of this fact when they heard a knock on the door. Stephen tried to turn his head but Tony held him in place. 

“Don’t!” Tony whispered. The person knocked again, and a stranger’s voice filtered into the closet. 

“ _Hello? Is someone in there?_ ”

Tony was so close, he could feel his orgasm approaching and god damn it he just wanted to _come_ \- 

“ _If no one is changing in there, I’m unlocking the door_.”

Panic was in Stephen’s eyes as they heard keys jingling in the lock. The door clicked open and the dam had finally burst. Tony yelped, and Stephen closed his eyes just in time as Tony’s spunk painted his face in spurts, some flying into his open mouth, some up his nose and even a gob on his eyelid. Finally catching his breath, Tony gave his cock one last pump and addressed the waiter frozen in the doorway. 

“Oh, great. Now we have to kill you,” Tony sighed. “Unless you wanna join?” 

With a squeak, the waiter quickly left, locking the door behind him. 

* * *

Stephen drove them home. The party had winded down and even though Pepper and Happy were still canoodling on the dance floor, Tony thought it was time to leave. After saying their good-byes, Tony and Stephen walked to the car, hands intertwined. 

As soon as they were in the car Tony tried to initiate the conversation again, but Stephen wouldn’t have it. 

“Not til you’re sober,” Stephen said dismissively, eyes on the road. 

“Oh, please,” Tony threw on his sunglasses even though it was the dead of night. “Like you’ll fuck me when I’m drunk but you won’t _talk_ to me? Does that sound backwards to you, Doc?” 

Stephen turned slowly to look at him. Tony could see his words had hurt but it was a completely valid point. He didn’t need a diatribe, he didn’t need a soliloquy, he just needed an _answer_. Yes, or no. Maybe an explanation would be nice, but just a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would also suffice. Agreeing to disagree, they sat in a heavy silence for the rest of the drive home. 

When Stephen pulled the car into park, he gently placed his hand on Tony’s leg. Tony quickly looked away, examining the concrete beams in the garage with feigned interest. 

“I have to go to the Kamar-Taj,” Stephen said solemnly. 

“... when?” Tony didn’t look him in the eye. 

“I should be there already,” Stephen unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted to be closer to Tony. “But I just wanted to see you get home safely.” 

“Well,” Tony unbuckled and moved to get out of the car, but not before patting Stephen’s cheek. “Mission accomplished. Good boy.” 

Tony got out of the car quickly and made his way towards the elevator doors. He just wanted to sit in his bath, maybe have a nightcap or three. Stephen ran to catch up to him, shoving the keys to the Lincoln into his stubborn hands. He gripped Tony’s shoulder, turning him around, and pulled him into a searing kiss. 

“I know you’re mad at me and you deserve an explanation. But right now, they need me and I have to go,” Stephen pressed their foreheads together. Tony closed his eyes, wishing he never had to leave. “When I get back, I will tell you everything.”

Tony smiled, giving into another kiss, and then realizing what Stephen had said, snapped his eyes open. 

“Wait, what do you mean ‘tell me everything’?” Tony reached out to him but Stephen had already started jogging away, opening a portal as he ran. “What are you not telling me already?!”

“I love you, I’ll call you!” Stephen hollered out, before slipping through the portal. 

Tony felt his face twitch as he watched the portal close. He stepped into the elevator, cursing Stephen’s name. Sometimes he really wondered if it was worth all of the trouble. 

“ _Welcome home, boss_ ,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in, her Irish lilt annoying him as he unfastened his cufflinks. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he pouted. 

“You have a visitor,” the A.I. simply stated. “She’s waiting for you in the living room.” 

“ _She_?” Tony balked. He couldn’t imagine who could possibly be visiting him at this ungodly hour, let alone a woman who would do that. He really had to examine F.R.I.D.A.Y’s security system, after Harley had fucked with it last year, she had never really been the same. 

He walked into his living room, unsure of what to expect - his hand hovered over his arc reactor, the top of the visitor’s head barely visible. He walked around to see who it was. 

Natasha Romanoff was curled up in Tony’s favorite lounge chair, fast asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the cat's away the mice will play! What could Nat and Tony possibly get up to?


	5. Be Your Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a beautiful woman falls asleep in Tony's apartment he can barely contain himself. Just kidding, he totally can because it's Nat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Everybody wants to know what  
>  Different really means  
> And everybody tries to be like us  
> But some things they could never be  
> \- Vigiland_

Tony quietly poured himself a scotch and sauntered to the couch. She looked so peaceful there, her mouth slightly open, drool pooling on her shoulder. He chuckled to himself imagining if she knew he was sitting there watching her. Any other day, he would have been dead on his feet and gone straight to bed. But he was restless, the familiar pangs of insomnia eroding his need for sleep. Instead, he grabbed his Stark tablet and began scrolling through the day’s news. 

An hour later, she stirred. He half expected her to karate chop his throat but ever a surprise, she simply stretched her limbs and blinked at him.

“Hey,” she said, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Hey there sunshine,” he closed the article he was reading and picked up his drink. “You have a good nap?” 

“It was decent,” she smiled at him. 

“Where’s Bruce?” 

“On his way back home,” she repositioned herself in the lounge chair and placed her hand under her chin, looking at Tony thoughtfully. “He had to pack.” 

He was about to ask her why she didn’t have to, also, but he followed her eyeline to a tiny black backpack on the floor. Natasha epitomized  _ a rolling stone gathers no moss _ . He should have guessed by her dismissive attitude earlier that she didn’t have any attachments to their house in Bora Bora. In fact, he couldn’t recall a time  _ ever _ when she’d had a suitcase larger than a carry on, and never the same one. 

“So what’s your plan here?” He asked carefully. He was grateful for her company but people had been dropping into Stark Tower left and right and with Stephen gone, he’d finally gotten the place to himself. Soon, Harley and Peter would be moving in for the summer months and Tony was certain he would never be alone again. 

“I need to look for a place,” she said casually. “I was thinking of calling up that realtor Stephen’s friend used.”

“Which friend?” Tony was being aloof and Natasha knew it. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Christine?” It was no secret that Stephen didn’t have many friends in Manhattan. Any former colleagues remained just that. He’d spent the last few years being absorbed into the mystical world and had all but dropped any former acquaintances except for Christine. Since she had become engaged to Dr. West, Stephen had to put up with Nicodemus, too. He and Tony would go out to dinner with the couple occasionally, and while Tony thought Christine was charming (maybe too talkative), he thought Nicodemus had conversational skills comparable to a door post. The man was hopelessly boring. What Christine saw in him, Tony had no idea. 

Christine was dazzling in comparison. She was witty, she was sharp, she entertained Tony’s smart alec remarks which left Stephen rolling his eyes and Nicodemus confused. Ever a graceful host, the last time they had dined at their new condo, Tony was so flattered she had purchased his favorite scotch to share after the meal. She even catered to Stephen’s vegan diet and Tony’s gluten-free. She was incredibly considerate, not to mention beautiful, and even though they got along like wildfire, sometimes it made him feel insecure. He knew she had been with Stephen on and off for years - their relationship extremely similar to his and Pepper’s. But something in the way Christine watched Stephen talk made him uneasy. Sometimes her gaze lasted a little too long, her touch on his scarred hands lingering. Maybe it was just Tony’s imagination...

Natasha watched Tony spiral into his empty glass. 

“Ok, that’s it,” she clapped her hands together and got up from the chair. She marched over to the bar, perusing the mini fridge and gathering accoutrement. Holding up her favorite vodka and a jar of gourmet olives, she asked, “Martini? Extra dry? Extra -”

“No olives,” Tony barked. His abruptness made her smirk. She quietly mixed the drinks, watching as Tony stared at nothing in particular. He was clearly exhausted, but all he could think about was how many years he had suffered drinking dirty martinis. Pepper kept making them that way and he was so enthralled with her he never corrected her. Now that he was with Stephen the truth could finally come out. Tony fucking hated olives. 

Natasha didn’t pry while she finished pouring the drinks. She and Tony were quite comfortable sitting in silence, but he could feel her eyes burning a hole in his skull. She wasn’t exactly a gossip, but after years of being Tony’s friend she could definitely tell when he needed to bitch. Other people’s stories might have bored her, but Tony was fascinating. Adding Stephen to the mix only made him  _ more  _ fascinating. Handing Tony his drink, she plopped down on the hassock and eagerly took a sip out of her own glass. 

“Now  _ spill _ .”

Nat and Bruce had known Tony was planning on proposing before he even did. His phone calls to them had been purely  _ Stephen this _ and  _ Stephen that _ to the point where Nat put herself on mute so she could do literally anything else while Tony talked about Stephen. At this point she knew really miscellaneous shit about the sorcerer, and wished she had the ability of completely forgetting things like Bruce did. 

She knew what kind of underwear Stephen liked, what kind of hummus he bought at the grocery store, and who his favorite apprentice was at the Kamar-Taj. She knew his father and sister were dead, his mother estranged living overseas. She knew he’d been in a horrific car accident that led him to abandon his surgeon life, and she knew he had been absolutely vital to Tony’s survival after the battle with Thanos. For that, she was extremely grateful. 

When Tony had announced he had been dating the doctor she wasn’t surprised, but relieved. She watched him struggle for years being flighty and non-committal with Pepper. They’d broken up more times than anyone could keep track of (Rhodey had a tally going, at some point) and Nat almost choked when she heard they were getting married and having a kid. But with Stephen, Tony was different. He was relaxed. He wasn’t so unstable. He still had his moments, especially after the Vikhura expedition, but overall Tony was doing so much better. 

It wasn’t even just what she heard from Tony’s phone calls. Tony simply lit up when Stephen walked into a room. His laugh became more sincere, his voice softer. He was much more publicly affectionate with Stephen than she could ever remember him being with Pepper. Maybe it was just a factor of his age, or the security that came with saving the world a couple of times. Or maybe being with the sorcerer did just that - made Tony finally feel secure. 

She was secretly pleased when Tony started talking about the proposal. It was selfish, but she couldn’t fucking wait to get out of the house and leave that goddamn island. Tony had let her use her global sleuthing skills to seek out new missions for the Avengers, but it was entirely remote. She only had to travel to New York for workshops with trainees twice a year, but a wedding meant she could come back! However much love she held for Bruce, she missed her work. She missed her friends. Above all, she missed seeing literally anyone else. 

Earlier that day, Tony had tried to call her because he was nervous. Stephen was busy with the kids and Tony took a couple minutes to himself out on the landing platform. The clock was ticking down to Pepper’s party and even though he didn’t get the reinforcement he wanted, he barreled ahead anyway. 

Nat sat in objective silence while Tony recounted his day up to the botched proposal. When Tony got to the part about the baby vomit her placid face broke into a smile. She could only imagine the chaos and Tony’s hopeless attempt. She stifled giggles while Tony painted the scene but her stern face returned when Tony told her the sorcerer’s response. 

“‘ _ We’re going to be late. Pepper will kill us _ ’,” Tony recited. “And then he fucking left! Wouldn’t even talk about it in the car, or at the restaurant, or when we fucked in the closet.” 

Confused, Nat was about to ask but Tony added, “It’s a long story, it was a really big closet. Oh, and now he’s gone again for who knows how long, so that’s neat.” 

Remembering he had a drink in his hand, he downed the tepid liquid and placed his glass next to Nat’s. 

“Well.. that’s not an answer,” she scooped up their empty glasses and wandered back to the bar, confusion still clear on her face. “What does that even mean?” 

“I don’t know!” Tony threw up his hands, exasperated. “Is he scared? Worried? Maybe he doesn’t even love me.” 

Tony frowned and Nat turned to look at him, “That’s definitely not true.” 

“Hard to tell lately, I’ve barely seen the guy,” Tony sighed, fumbling his fingers. He could hear Nat scooping ice and looked up to see her pour a liberal amount of vodka into the tumbler. 

“Looks like we’ll have to solve things the old fashioned way,” she shook the martini shaker so violently Tony thought she was imagining Bruce in there. “Buckle up, Stark. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

  
  


A few drinks later found them surrounded by a bunch of scrap paper with drunken scribbles. A poster board had been placed on an easel with the title ‘How to Get Stephen Strange to say  _ Yes _ ’ with three bullet points. Tony had merely suggested ‘ask a million times’ while Nat had added ‘seduce’ and ‘hold at gunpoint’. They laughed too hard, and Tony made sure to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. to set a reminder for him to burn these pieces of paper. 

But it felt good to hash it out with a friend. Nat wanted to use her super spy skills to track Stephen down, maybe even threaten Wong to give away Stephen’s whereabouts. Tony had to remind her (gently) that maybe she wasn’t a match for a master sorcerer, but she just rolled her eyes. 

They sat and scoured the internet and any secret databases Nat could get into to try and find some dirt on him. There wasn’t a whole lot of information Tony didn’t already know, or so he thought. He sat with Nat on the floor, their eyes glued to the holographic screen. 

“Huh, look at this,” Nat clicked on a certain file and Tony tried to focus. “HYDRA had him on a hit list. When was his accident?” 

Tony looked at the date on the screen, “After that, I think.”

“How could a neurosurgeon be such a threat?” 

“You haven’t seen him naked, he’s most definitely a threat.”

“ _ Eeew _ ,” Nat smacked him, laughing. Tony winked at her and turned his attention back to the screen. “You could visit his mom, I think I found her address!” 

“Yeah, right,” Tony scoffed into his drink. “ _ Hi, I’m banging your son, can you tell me why he won’t marry me _ ? Sounds like a great ice-breaker.”

“Or you could call his brother,” Nat suggested, and Tony nearly spat out his drink. 

“Excuse me? Stephen doesn’t have a brother!”

“Says here he does,” she made the profile larger and a gritty photograph took over the screen. The man looked almost nothing like Stephen - except they had the same nose. The man had a sallow complexion, inset dark eyes and an expression that could wilt even the liveliest flora. “Victor Strange. He lives nearby, too, in Jersey.” 

Nat was still scrolling through the profile before she had noticed that Tony had gotten up. He was annoyed. How could Stephen keep him in the dark about a sibling? And one that lives close, too. What other secrets did Stephen have? What else did he not know about the man he wanted to marry? Most of all, how could he find out answers if Stephen wasn’t even there to talk about it?

“Hey,” he heard Nat’s smooth voice as she wrapped her arms around his stomach, planting her cheek into his back. “Everything will be okay.”

Tony wanted so badly to believe her. 

* * *

  
  


When he woke, his head was pounding and a glance at the clock told him it was the afternoon. He didn’t know what time he and Nat had decided to sleep but he was pretty sure the sun was almost up. She was passed out on the other side of his king size bed, fully clothed, her cell phone dead in her hand. Tony winced as he checked his own phone, the brightness already on its lowest setting. Seeing a missed call from an unfamiliar number, he pressed play on the voicemail, hoping it would be Stephen’s voice on the other end of the line.

“ _ Hello thank you for calling the estate of Beverly Strange. We are confirming the time of your interview with Mrs. Strange at ten o’clock this Friday. Please arrive promptly and check in at the gate... _ ” and Tony zoned out as the assistant listed the contact information for some mansion in England. 

What the hell did he get himself into?


	6. Dangerous Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat talks about shoes. Tony prepares to meet with Beverly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update! School started again and I'm getting married this weekend! Love to all of you.
> 
> _Left your secrets inside  
>  All the lies you can't hide  
> I see a storm rolling in  
> I see the ground crumbling  
> But in a chain reaction  
> It's a dangerous game  
> _  
> \- Klergy, BEGINNERS

It was all Nat’s idea. 

“I got through, I got through!” Tony whispered excitedly. He and Nat had dialed a few different numbers trying to get a hold of Beverly Strange. “Hello! Yes. Hi. My name is Tony -”

Nat punched him on his bad shoulder. Panicked, he read the first word he could see. A ream of copy paper lay nearby, its contents strewn across the living room… 

“Err - Anthony Staples, with the New York Times -” 

Nat was mouthing probable obscenities at him, her blonde hair a total disaster from a night of boozing with her best friend. She hung her head in defeat, listening to Tony stumble through a conversation with a very confused personal secretary. 

“I was hoping to interview Mrs. Strange, her son was nominated for a lifetime achievement award by the American Society of Neurologists and I was hoping -” He didn’t know if that society existed or what, but he was stopped mid sentence when the secretary let him know that her employer under no circumstances did interviews by phone. “I see. Well, I’ll be in Heathrow by the weekend if that works.” 

Eyes bulging, Nat hit Tony repeatedly with a newspaper. Trying to fend her off, he tentatively agreed to meet Mrs. Strange that Friday. The secretary would call back shortly with confirmation after she spoke with her boss. Soaring on the several alcoholic drinks in his system and the giddiness of discovering Stephen’s mother, Tony barely noticed when Nat bumped into him, shoving another drink into his hands. 

  
  


Later that day in the darkness of the blacked out living room, they watched F.R.I.D.A.Y’s security footage and listened to the phone call. Nat was huddled underneath a giant down comforter, her face barely visible behind a steaming cup of black coffee. Tony, considerably more comfortable in his bathrobe, sunk into his favorite chair quietly while they watched the holographic screen.

“This is all your fault, Romanoff,” he huffed, crossing his legs on the hassock with conviction.

“You can cancel anytime,  _ Mr. Staples _ ,” she snapped. She pulled the comforter around her tighter, the bright lights and harsh audio assaulting her senses. He could cancel, but he wouldn’t. This was the opportunity of a lifetime that sober him wouldn’t have ever dreamt of. A fact finding mission under the guise of a friendly interview? Please. “And anyway, don’t you have the kids this weekend?”

_ Fuck _ . He forgot about that. Pepper was taking off for another “girls weekend” but now that he knew about her and Happy, he figured it was another romantic getaway with his former bodyguard. He was, for lack of a better term, happy for them. For Pepper, mostly. She certainly deserved someone who worshipped the ground she walked on. Considering how Happy followed her around like a puppy dog well before their divorce, Tony was sure he was up to the task. Did it irritate him? Possibly. Maybe it was because of that one time at the Avengers Compound a couple of years ago… 

Shaking it off, he had to consider his current needs. He was starving, and the fridge was empty. He was planning on having groceries delivered but now that Stephen wasn’t there to cook, there wasn’t much point in filling up the fridge with vegetables he didn’t feel like eating. Tony could cook, but he specialized in things that Stephen didn’t like - mainly meat and cheesy dishes he grew up on. It only meant that every romantic dinner Tony ever planned ended up the same way: cursing, burnt food, and ordering take out from the local vegetarian eatery. 

“I’m fucking hungry,” Natasha said finally. “And I don’t want take out, it’s always fucking soggy.” 

“Even when I say it’s for -” 

“Yes, even when you say it’s for the great  _ Tony Stark _ ,” she rolled her eyes and threw off the comforter. Standing up from the couch, she held her hand out to him. “C’mon. We’re going to Big Daddy’s.” 

  
  
  


He never would have pegged Nat as a lover of touristy bullshit, but something about the popular diner tugged at her cold, taut heartstrings. Maybe it was the retro theme decor, or the fact that the pancakes were twice the size of her face. Either way, Tony couldn’t think too hard about it when he was sitting in a booth opposite of her, sipping on a Bloody Mary. He was still getting over his hangover and the new dose of vodka helped him come to terms with the gravity of his situation - he was fucked. 

“Okay, okay - so I meet his mom, and ask… how… did your marriage fuck him up as a kid?” He posited, chewing on a celery stalk. Nat gave him a withering look. 

“You need ammunition. Like, you need things to talk about otherwise your cover is blown,” her face screwed up, thinking of all the ways Tony could salvage this scenario. “If you go in blind she’s going to know you’re full of shit. We need  _ details _ . Stephen never talked about his parents?” 

“Only under duress,” he smirked, thinking about the times he grilled Stephen for tidbits about his past. It always ended poorly. 

“So we find it out for ourselves,” Nat nodded to herself, “We have the means, we just need to talk to the right people.” 

Right, but not Stephen himself. Tony thought about all of the times he had prodded Stephen about his family history. It’s not like Tony had fond memories of his family himself, but he supposed it was only human nature to be curious. What had Stephen’s childhood been like? Was he happy? Was he upset? Did he have someone who loved him? 

All of this translated to Tony’s concerns about the future. Could Stephen love Tony’s family the same way he did? Was he capable of such unconditional love? Everything Tony had seen so far had convinced him millions of times over, but Tony was no stranger to trauma from the past creeping up in the least suspecting moment. He trusted Stephen implicitly, but he just had to  _ know _ . Could Stephen be the man he needed him to be? Was there anything that could prevent him from doing that? 

Tony wasn’t sure if tracking down Stephen’s family was considered “the right people”. Stephen had never mentioned his brother’s existence, and had only mentioned his mother for the mere fact that she gave birth to him. Tony didn’t surmise that Stephen’s relationship was anything like the relationship he had with his own mother. Stephen had always said that he no longer spoke to his mom, but had never told Tony why. 

Stephen’s response to the proposal had spurred a bunch of insecurities Tony had forgotten about. His heart leapt at the chance to reconnect to Stephen’s past, even if it was without his knowledge. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy. But if Tony wanted to spend the rest of his life with this man, did he not have the right to know? 

The spunky teenage waitress arriving abruptly at their table interrupted his thoughts. She smiled, exposing a particularly toothy grin.

“What can I get ya folks?” She said cheerily, her pen poised on the notepad, ready to take their order.

“I’ll have a Piggly Wiggly and a side of tater tots,” Nat said decisively, handing the waitress her oversized menu. She looked pointedly at Tony. He didn’t even have a chance to look at the menu yet.

“Um… the breakfast sandwich, please, no cheese,” he handed over his menu, and upon a moment’s thought, “And more coffee. And another Bloody Mary.”

Nat seconded that, and they watched the young woman flit away from the table with the same enthusiasm with which she had appeared. 

“So… you and Bruce,” Tony started. He knew Nat didn’t want to talk about it much, but he was hoping for some insight. He had a hard time imagining why they were having so much trouble. They had purchased the house in Bora Bora to escape from everyone and everything, but a year or so of solitude had shifted Nat’s personality. She drained her drink and looked at him flatly. 

“You know that feeling when you’re wearing those shoes that you’ve been pining after for years and now you finally have them, but you find out that they’re actually really uncomfortable and they’re rubbing at your heel?” 

He wished he had anything left to drink. 

“It’s like that. And they’re nice shoes, they do the job. But what if I had  _ other _ shoes?” Her gaze shifted past Tony’s shoulder and he could tell she wasn’t really in the conversation anymore. “What if I had sexier shoes? Or shoes that did the dishes?”

“Totally,” he agreed. He had to admit it unnerved him seeing Natasha like this. Her romance with Bruce was slow, everyone had seen it coming but didn’t think the pair of them would ever commit. When they had finally announced they were dating it just felt so  _ right _ . Nat deserved someone who was steadfast, unshakeable. Bruce deserved someone with unwavering loyalty. They seemed so perfect and Tony thought it was hilarious they looked to him and Pepper for guidance on how to operate within a relationship. 

Even when Stephen entered the picture, Bruce and Natasha seemed infallible. They supported Tony through his momentary freak-outs, consoling him with midnight phone calls and reassuring texts. While they didn’t always agree, they exerted a sense of calm Tony always lacked in his own life. He hated to see Natasha so unsure, and Bruce was probably completely unaware.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love him,” she said calmly, “I just need to stretch my feet a little.”

Tony was over the foot metaphors. They shifted the conversation to his kids, talking about how well Morgan was doing in school, or how advanced James was in comparison to his age group at daycare. He bristled when Natasha began asking how he felt about Pepper and Happy being together, or how he was planning on convincing her to take the kids for the weekend. Thankfully, the waitress returned with their food and Nat’s interrogation was momentarily paused. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked after the waitress had left. She squirted an insane amount of ketchup on her plate, and Tony watched, nauseous, while she swirled her tater tots through the gelatinous red sauce. “I mean, maybe it’s like Pandora’s box. Once you start digging through his past you might not like what you see.” 

“I would rather know than not,” he decided, and took a giant bite out of his breakfast sandwich.

It was delicious. 

  
  
  


Tony began to feel only slightly human after finishing his meal. He excused himself from the table when his phone rang, leaving Natasha to foot the bill. She waved him off, and he made his way quickly to the busy street. 

“Go for Stark,” he said dismissively. His mind was racing from his conversation with Nat. He had so many things to do, so many answers to find, and only two days to figure things out before he hopped on his private jet to get to Heathrow. 

“You missed your appointment,” The voice said accusingly. It was his therapist.

“I did?” Tony checked his watch. Of course he did. “I did.”

“Are you okay? Your texts this morning seemed… alarming.” 

Tony scrolled through his phone to look. Shit.

**STARK** : I proposed to Stephen!

**STARK** : He said no.

**STARK** : lol 

**STARK** : I’m fine

**STARK** : lol

“I’m fine, Doc,” he lied. 

“Would you like to reschedule for later today, or…?”

“You know, I’m kind of really busy this week, gotta go out of town, so um… I’ll call you,” He hung up abruptly as Nat exited the diner. 

“Ready to blow this joint?” She smiled at him, reaching for the passenger door on his maserati. 

“You can take the car,” he tossed her the keys. He couldn’t help but smirk at the surprised look on her face. “I’m gonna walk. Need to clear my head a little. I’ll see you tonight, probably.” 

“Alright,” she couldn’t peel the stupid grin off her face as she walked around to the driver side. “Good luck. Let me know how it goes.”

He watched as she turned the ignition and the engine roared to life, startling passerby. She looked like she belonged behind the wheel. She winked at him as she pulled into traffic, and he began his walk downtown. He had to talk to the one person who knew Stephen Strange better than anyone else. He had to find out exactly what she knew about his family, had to have the uncomfortable conversation about the ins and outs of their relationship. 

He had to talk to Christine Palmer. 


	7. Stargazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony was being a brat, but a lovable brat. AKA, Tony thinks back to a "vacation" he took with Stephen, Christine agrees to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Let's make up our own minds, we've got our whole lives  
>  Let's see and decide  
> Stars don't disappear, they keep blazing  
> Even when the night is over  
> And I will still be here, stargazing  
> I still look up for love  
> _  
> -Kygo

_A couple of months earlier..._

He was bored. Hopelessly out of his mind bored. The fan that Stephen insisted on being on, regardless of the temperature of the room or the outside, was annoying his every sense. The kids were over at Pepper’s, Peter and Harley were wrapped up in midterms, and Tony was staring at the ceiling in Stephen’s office at the Sanctum. 

In between projects, he’d felt kind of lost. He’d just started talking to a new therapist (the old one didn’t work out, long story) and his current task was to _be in the moment_. Despite how Stephen interpreted that comment, Tony had taken it to mean doing a bunch of reckless things (setting trash on fire with Harley, going out to bars like he used to, signing away property or assets Pepper didn’t know about), which resulted in his current status - being babysat by the Sorcerer Supreme on a perfectly good Friday morning. 

He sighed loudly. Stephen didn’t even look up from the ancient text he was reading. Unsatisfied with the lack of response, he plopped his feet up higher on the antique couch and grumbled. Another sigh should do it. 

“Is there _something I can help you with_?” Stephen said sternly, not risking a glance at his boyfriend sprawled out on his collectible furniture. 

“No,” Tony said wistfully. He sighed again, causing Stephen to slam his book shut. 

“What?” Stephen snapped. “What’s the matter?” 

Tony had to laugh a little bit. Stephen had been so patient the last few months, what with Tony recovering from his cross-dimensional mind-fuck that was the Vikhura. He’d kept a low profile, working on mending the relationships he’d destroyed but it had just occurred to Stephen how fucking annoying Tony could be. He could see Stephen grappling with his demeanor, his fist squeezing and releasing as he’d realized his response had been a bit terse. 

“Let’s leave the city,” Tony sat up. “I’m sick of it. Sick of the people, sick of the sights, sick of… this.” 

“For…?”

“For vacation! Or whatever! You’ve got that sling thing, let’s just go somewhere,” Tony marched over and planted his hands on the corner of Stephen’s desk. “ _Anywhere_.”

Stephen studied his face a moment.

“Fine,” He pushed his chair out and stood, dusting his hands off. “Where to, maestro?”

“Funny you should say that. I know how you are genetically predisposed to have an allergic reaction to UV rays -”

“It’s not an allergic reaction, it’s just sunburn -”

“I know sweetheart,” Tony said consolingly, “But, I mean, I know this _nice_ little bistro in Florence that is just _begging_ for us to have dinner there tonight.” 

“If we had dinner there they would most definitely be closed,” Stephen scrunched his face in confusion. 

“Well, perfect! Lunch then. I’m starving,” Tony clapped his hands together and quickly left the study, looking for Wong. He was going to take Stephen on a date, god damn it. 

  
  


The bistro was aptly named _Il Bistro_ and was located south of the Ponte Vecchio. Situated just beyond an old castle wall, Stephen had so many questions, but their brisk walk had left no time for answers, and Tony was hungry. 

They were sat immediately. Though the other patrons appeared to be well into their dinner courses, the staff showed no qualms at seating Tony Stark. Stephen had never been to Italy before, and having never used his sling ring for a brief excursion, his handicap became quickly apparent. Stephen didn’t speak a lick of Italian. 

“ _Avremo i tortelloni e il giro del mare e il pesce del giorno_ ,” Tony said quite eloquently. “ _E una bottiglia di rosso, qualunque cosa tu suggerisca._ ”

With a wink, Tony sent off the waitress, who appeared to know him as she greeted him with a kiss and a smile, much to Stephen’s dismay. 

“Old friend?” Stephen sipped his water.

“ _Francesca_ ,” Tony confirmed. “Basically grew up with her. Her father owns the place -”

Tony was interrupted by an eruption of cheers coming from the kitchen. A man old enough to be his father strolled out, arms open wide, calling his name. Tony immediately got up and embraced the old man. 

“ _Antonio_ I was so happy to hear you were here, they told me you were dead!” The old man said, shaking Tony by the shoulders. 

“It’s never true, old friend,” Tony smiled. 

“Sit, please. A bottle of _riserva_ on me, eh?” He forced Tony to sit back in his chair, and addressed the other patrons with a joyous proclaim which was met with cheering and applause. Perplexed, Stephen sat back and watched the whole affair unfold. 

“Every year, my mom took us to Florence,” Tony explained. “Alejandro and Francesca are old family friends.” 

Stephen sat silently while Francesca poured the wine for Tony to taste, and got lost in the sounds of Tony catching up with her. It was a beautiful language, and he regretted not having a few moments to study up before he arrived. Hell, he didn’t even know Tony spoke fluent Italian. 

The food was delicious, the wine even moreso. Conversation would trickle over from the communal table in the center of the dining room and Stephen felt more lost when Tony would start laughing, only to respond to the other patrons dining quite vocally nearby. Patrons and wait staff alike disappeared outside for smoke breaks, the food being delivered in perfect timing with whatever the guests preferred. Stephen found himself drinking a copious amount of wine, _reserved_ wine, but not feeling particularly drunk as the food came out synchronously with their alcohol intake. 

Stephen knew that Tony spoke some French and Spanish, the latter mostly because he’d heard Tony dole it out to some poor bastard at the bodega near his house when they ran out of tortas. Logically, it wasn’t a far stretch that Tony would know or know how to speak Italian. But his _mother_ was Italian? How did he not know that? They’d been dating for over a year… 

“For Tony and for Tony’s lover!” Alejandro appeared tableside with champagne glasses and an overflowing bottle of prosecco.  
“Oh, uh, please - he’s _very_ uncomfortable with that -” Tony looked past Stephen’s blushing face to see the wait staff pouring everyone a glass. 

“We insist!” Alejandro poured three glasses and held one up for a toast. “To your health and happiness, _signores_ . We are so pleased to see you. _Salute_!” 

Cheers rang out around the restaurant, and Tony couldn’t help but see past the sorcerer’s frank demeanor. Stephen was withdrawing, and Tony couldn’t have that. 

\---

Truth be told, Stephen was exhausted. Between his duties as Sorcerer Supreme and keeping an eye on a certain genius, billionaire, no-longer-playboy but still philanthropist, he wasn’t getting much sleep. He was in the middle of deciphering an ancient relic Wong had brought from the Kamar-Taj when he’d gotten a call from Pepper asking - no, _begging_ for him to take Tony off her hands. 

She was busy juggling her life as CEO and being a mother to three children: James, Morgan, and Tony. After the Vikhura, Tony stayed mostly at his tower and Stephen certainly joined him several nights of the week - but without projects to work on, Tony planted himself firmly in Pepper’s space and short of a court order, would not be removed. 

Begrudgingly, Stephen agreed Tony could spend days with him at the Sanctum under certain conditions. Tony wasn’t allowed to touch anything on the third floor, wasn’t allowed to bother the apprentices in the household, and absolutely was _not_ allowed to blow anything up. 

It was the third condition that brought Tony to Stephen’s study in the middle of the day. Stephen’s study was, in general, a calm and quiet space. Occasionally he would pause his work to go meditate by the globular window overlooking Bleecker Street. He felt he had finally relaxed his entire body when he heard a loud _BANG_ and the walls of the Sanctum shook. He didn’t even need to address the panicked apprentices racing to his door to figure out what had happened. 

Stephen strode out into the courtyard, his cloak wrapping itself protectively around him. When he got close enough, the cloak whapped Tony on the back of his head. Tony barely noticed, shaking dust out of his hair. The blast radius was perfectly confined within the garden walls, remnants of what Stephen could only guess was one of the arm chairs Tony hated littered the yard. Hands on his hips, Tony finally acknowledged the scowling sorcerer. 

“Oh hi, honey,” he grinned, clearly pleased with himself. His face was covered in ash. He removed his goggles and earmuffs, revealing smooth, clean skin underneath. “Work going ok?” 

Under different circumstances, Stephen might have smiled at Tony’s raccooned face, or maybe he would have been grateful that the explosion melted the pesky ice on the roof. Today, however - Stephen was not in the mood, and it took all of his might not to throttle the one person he loved most in the entire universe. 

“Upstairs. Now,” Stephen barked, and Tony took off like a scolded child. While Stephen commanded the apprentices to clean up Tony’s mess, Tony made himself comfortable in Stephen’s bedroom. He was quite disappointed when Stephen appeared, demanding he clothe himself and meet in Stephen’s study. If that didn’t get the sorcerer’s attention, nothing would. Maybe they needed a change of scenery…

\---

Stephen was sitting alone in the restaurant. Tony had gone to the bathroom ages ago, and Stephen sat staring at his empty plate, wondering if he had to flag down _Francesca_ to get a check. Was it rude to ask for the check? He didn’t know, so he sat. 

The front door of the bistro swung open and Tony came in, laughing loudly with two other patrons. They bantered back and forth, and Stephen could feel his patience wearing thinner still. When Tony finally took a seat, Stephen could smell what was taking him so long in the “bathroom”. Tony never could pass up a cigarette. 

“You reek,” Stephen said pointedly, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. Tony’s smile softened and he drained his wine glass. 

“Sorry honey,” Tony didn’t know how many times he’d said that the past few weeks, but he intended to make up for it. “Look, you want to get out of here? I bet you’re tired.”

Stephen didn’t respond, simply getting up and gathering his coat. “You paid, correct?” 

“Everything’s taken care of, sweetcheeks,” Tony got up and tapped Stephen lightly on the butt. He let his hand linger, cupping the swell of Stephen’s ass, enjoying the firmness in the palm of his hand… 

“Let’s go, then,” Stephen moved swiftly to the exit, nodding to Alejandro and Francesca on his way out. 

\---

Tony didn’t let the sorcerer’s sour mood bring him down. As soon as they left the restaurant Tony walked with an extra skip in his step, his hand loosely tangled with Stephen’s while they strolled the lamp-lit streets. Their shoes echoed off the cobblestone and it only took Stephen a few minutes to realize they were walking down different streets from whence they came, heading in the complete opposite direction of Tony’s apartment across the river. 

“ _Via de’ Bardi_?” Stephen read the street sign and swiveled on his heel. “Do you know where we are? Are we lost?” 

“I always know where I am,” Tony smirked. “I’m right here.” 

“Ha, ha.” 

“No, but in all seriousness - I love you,” Tony pulled Stephen in for a reluctant kiss. 

“Mmph,” he agreed, “Of course you do.” 

“And I know… I have been impossibly difficult while I uh… decompress. And I’m not really good at expressing myself, or explaining these things, so I just wanted to say that I am sorry,” Tony pulled aside a wall of ivy, revealing a small entrance. He stepped in, holding his hand out to guide Stephen in the dark. They were inside the _Giardino Bardini_ , the beautiful renaissance garden known for its spectacular views of the city. It was closed, of course, but Stephen supposed for a man like Tony Stark, that was hardly an obstacle. They walked up the seventeenth century stairs, Stephen’s breath escaping his lungs as he looked out at the night city skyline of Florence. 

“It’s gorgeous up here,” Stephen whispered in awe. “But how did you -?” 

Stephen turned to see Tony had disappeared, tiny flashing drones illuminating a pathway. As Stephen walked by them they flitted ahead, leading him up some more stairs on the perimeter of the garden. In a clearing, he spotted Tony. Blankets and I pillows adorned the ground, a bottle of wine opened with two glasses poured. 

“It’s a beautiful night for stargazing,” Tony patted the blanket, indicating for Stephen to join him. Ignoring the cracks from his knees, Stephen settled on the ground, grabbing a glass of wine on his way down. “I love you, and I want to make it up to you. I know this doesn’t even begin to…” 

“Shut up, Tony,” Stephen kissed him then, putting the day’s stress and worries behind the power in his lips. He felt Tony melt beneath his touch. “I apologize for snapping at you earlier today, I’m just… tired.” 

“Relax,” Tony caressed his cheek, and leaned back onto the pillows. “Now tell me your favorite constellations.” 

\---

It was cozy. Tony was lulled by the smooth sounds of Stephen’s voice, the wine forgotten as Stephen pointed out various stars, constellations, and their connection to history. He was snuggled up on Stephen’s chest, smiling while he felt the vibrations from Stephen speaking. His heartbeat thudded in his ears and in that moment, he thought it was complete bliss. 

“Are you still awake?” He could hear Stephen say. “We should head back.”

“We’re not going anywhere until I take care of you,” Before Stephen could object, Tony had slipped underneath the blanket and began to undo Stephen’s pants. He took out Stephen’s soft member and planted soft kisses along the base, and ran his tongue flatly to the tip. He felt Stephen tense up, only to relax fully when Tony took him in his mouth. 

“Someone could see us,” Stephen half complained, struggling to keep the blanket over Tony’s bobbing head. Tony hummed his disagreement around the sorcerer’s length. If there was one thing that could shut up Stephen Strange, it was a surprise blow job. “Someone could… _oh.”_

Tony continued his ministrations, paying special attention to the soft moans he was evoking from his lover. Stephen’s hands wandered Tony’s back over the blanket, gripping and releasing as his pleasure ebbed and increased. Tony was taking his time, lapping and sucking and bringing Stephen to the edge of release and then backing off. It was his favorite way to prolong their time together, and he was happy to ignore Stephen’s delicate protests. 

When his tongue moved to Stephen’s asshole, the wizard let out an audible groan and kicked the blanket off. He was exposed, and Tony stole a peek at his face to see him in his wanton glory. Stephen’s mouth was slack, his eyes closed, his hands twisted in Tony’s hair. The wine bottle had tipped over and Tony could hear its contents glugging out onto the beautifully green grass, but at that moment, he couldn’t care less. Stephen was rolling his hips, begging for Tony’s hands to grasp his length harder, to move faster. 

“I can do you one better,” Tony quickly shed his pants and underwear, climbing up the sorcerer’s lithe body. While Tony distracted Stephen with a kiss, he felt Stephen’s hands wander to his ass where he was pleasantly surprised to feel a rubber ring protruding. “I’ve been ready for you all day.” 

Stephen could have cried. It was a gift from god, or Tony was anyway, and here he was prepped and ready to go. Tony shoved a bottle of lube into Stephen’s hand. 

“Slowly, please, whenever you’re ready,” he grunted. Stephen gently pulled the plug out, enjoying the expression on Tony’s face. “That’s the stuff, wizard.” 

Slicking his length, Stephen centered himself at Tony’s entrance. However annoyed Stephen was earlier in the day, all transgressions were now forgiven. He momentarily lost his sense of space and time as Tony sank down, seating himself perfectly. Stephen was drowning in Tony’s tight heat. 

“I love you,” Stephen managed to say, bucking his hips up slowly, “but I need you to move.” Tony moaned in response, suddenly remembering that he had legs. He rode Stephen’s cock at a metered pace, careful not to bare all of his weight on the sorcerer. As Stephen began meeting him for every thrust, Tony felt the urgency increase, and convinced Stephen to switch positions. Propping a pillow underneath his ass, he felt Stephen re-enter and the new angle caused him to shout out. 

“Sweet, holy Jesus,” Tony bit his finger as the sorcerer ploughed on. Spurred by his outburst, Stephen continued with renewed vigor. He knew exactly when he hit _that_ spot, Tony jolted in his arms as his orgasm took him by surprise. Feeling Tony spill onto himself, Stephen came. 

“And that,” Tony exhaled sharply, “Is ‘The Apology Part I’, for taking care of me when no one asked you to.” 

“Darling,” Stephen had more or less collapsed on top of Tony, but shifted his chin to look him squarely in the eye. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you, all of you, the good and the bad.” 

With a kiss on the forehead, Stephen rolled off of his lover and curled up to him, cuddling underneath the Florentine sky. 

  
  


* * *

_Present day_...

“Are you okay? Are you injured?” Christine Palmer flew into her office to find Tony Stark completely intact, and her face fell at the realization. It wasn’t an emergency. She frowned and crossed her arms, letting her office door close gently behind her. “What are you doing here? They told me you needed me, I was in the middle of surgery!” 

“Oh,” Tony turned, putting down the widget he was playing with back on her desk. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s _fine_ ,” she said, feeling slightly harassed. “We were closing, anyways, but geez. You need a code word or something, the interns always think anything you want is urgent.” 

Tony couldn’t fault them for that logic. He watched her sit at her desk, logging in to her computer while avoiding his gaze. He couldn’t decide the perfect words, couldn’t decide what to say that would persuade her to help him. After a moment’s silence, she bit her lip. 

“Tony…” she stopped typing to pull her auburn hair out of her face. “What did you need?” 

“I need to know everything you know about Stephen’s family,” He said, studying her comfort level with the topic. She grinned, feigning busyness, opening her desk drawer to search for something that probably didn’t exist. “Everything. I located his brother and I’m meeting his mother this Friday.” 

Christine’s jovial smile disappeared, and she shut the drawer loudly. Standing up from her desk, she grabbed her purse, keys jangling as she slung the bag over her shoulder. 

“I just need to change, but I could use a nice dinner,” she slipped into her adjacent bathroom, and he couldn’t help but smirk as he waited in her office. 

Perfect. Tony was getting what he wanted, and Tony Stark always got his way. 

Usually. 


	8. I Wanna Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That time Tony asked Stephen about his parents, a certain spiderling makes an appearance, Christine blabs at dinner, Nat finds prime real estate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _I'm tired of staying up all night with you on my mind  
>  Still I'm laying here  
> No, I shouldn't mind  
> I hate that you're the one  
> That I never get over  
> That I wanna get closer to  
> I want to know  
> _  
> -NOTD

They were snuggling in Stephen’s bed the first time Tony asked Stephen about his family. Pepper had agreed to bring Morgan over the next day, and since Stephen was finally home, they would all be able to explore the city together. It was nerve wracking, and Tony was just as nervous as Stephen. At that point, Stephen hadn’t met Morgan - and with Tony pursuing the wizard in a cross-continental trek, he decided it was finally time. They were serious. 

Tony had thought a lot about Morgan’s introduction to Stephen. As a rule, he knew Stephen didn’t like kids. But considering she was the offspring of the man he loved and there would soon be another Stark kid in the picture, Stephen promised to make his best effort. He didn’t know how to interact with kids, how to speak with them. Tony tried to soothe his worried mind after a lovemaking session.

“Just talk to her like you would an adult,” Tony nuzzled into Stephen’s shoulder, relishing in the warmth of the taller man. Stephen sighed. That was hardly a good enough explanation. 

“I don’t think that’s an accurate presumption,” Stephen was staring up at his bedroom ceiling, pondering all of the things that could go wrong the next day. “Studies have shown that speaking with eloquence to pre-pubescent -”

“Oh, shut it with the studies. She’s  _ seven _ . She’s gonna ask you a lot of questions, and once she’s had her fill, she’s going to move on and we’ll shove pizza down her throat,” Tony kissed Stephen lighty on the chest, stealing a glance at the worried sorcerer. “Everything will be okay. If anything, you should be more concerned about getting on Pepper’s good side.” 

“What? I thought you said dinner went well?” Stephen reeled, thinking about his first sit down dinner with Pepper. They’d met before, several times even, but it was the first time since Bora Bora they saw each other for any reason that wasn’t Avengers related. It was the first time he sat across from her, looked her in the eye, and acknowledged that he was finally Tony’s boyfriend. No more sneaking around, no more lies. 

“I was joking, she loves you.” Maybe  _ love  _ was a strong word to use, Pepper could more aptly be described as being  _ pleasantly tolerant _ of Tony’s relationship with the sorcerer. Whatever the case may be, Tony let Stephen’s mind wander and he escaped into his own thoughts. 

Meeting Morgan would be a huge step for them, and Tony was equally excited and terrified. What if they didn’t get along? What if Stephen was a robot? What if the paparazzi found them and designated Stephen the sulking, questionable third wheel? He and Pepper had had a  _ very _ public divorce, even if they told everyone they parted amicably. 

What if Morgan didn’t like Stephen? What if she never thought of him as a father figure, or even worse, called him something like  _ Uncle Stephen _ ? Should he hold Stephen’s hand when they were walking through the museum? Should he even tell her what Stephen is to him when she inevitably asks? They were treading in unexplored territory and he felt like he was going in blind. Confident, but still blind. The question popped into his head while they lay there in the dark, listening to each other’s breaths. 

“What were your parents like?” Tony asked. He felt Stephen take in a deep breath, his mouth opening briefly before he closed it, deciding not to say what he was going to say. Tony looked up at him, his narrow face impassive. 

“My father… was an incredible man,” Stephen said slowly. Tony’s spirits lifted, Stephen never offered this information before and he was relieved to find his father was normal. “But he died shortly after my sister. And my mother is a gold digging whore.” 

Yikes. Tony couldn’t think of a proper response fast enough, and before long, Stephen broke their embrace and rolled over. 

That was the first time Tony ever asked about his parents, and with the sullen mood that lingered in the days that followed, he thought it would be the last. 

* * *

It was like pulling teeth from a tiger. Tony guessed, anyway. Christine picked out a quiet New American restaurant a couple of blocks away from the hospital, praising its adventurous cocktail menu and shared plates selection. Between her and her fiance’s schedules, they just never found the time to try it out. Tony didn’t care where they went as long as he could hear her talk. 

And boy, did she talk. The walk to the restaurant was painless enough, but as soon as Christine got going on something, she did not stop. Any gaps in conversation were immediately filled with whatever she saw fit, and Tony was still mentally dragging from being up all night with Nat. Whenever Nat called would be a welcome break, and he was expecting it any moment… 

“...and  _ then _ we had the brilliant idea of moving the research lab to the  _ third _ floor, which made so much more sense, but it cost a lot of time and money to move everything but I think it will be worth it in the end. Stephen would be pissed they moved - well, actually,  _ re _ moved his photo from the surgery wing. He is brilliant, but he’s not working at MetroGen anymore, so it just doesn’t make sense, y’know?” 

Tony was about to mindlessly agree when a Ferrari parked stubbornly in front of the restaurant caught his eye. A California T with a twin turbocharged V8, that baby had to have at least 550 horsepower - and then he realized it was  _ his _ car. The license plate read, “STARK 13”, indicating the order in which he had purchased it. Heat rose in his cheeks. Surely F.R.I. would have alerted him if someone had stolen his car? Christine noticed he was distracted, and followed him wordlessly as he bent to inspect the vehicle. No scratches. 

“Should we - ?” Christine started, but Tony pushed past her and barrelled through the restaurant’s front doors. The host tried to greet him but he walked into the dining room, quickly scanning the split level floor for possible perpetrators. It took approximately three seconds for him to find the person he was looking for. Seated in the center of the spacious dining room, sitting opposite a familiar dark haired beauty was none other than his protege, and occasionally, the bane of his existence. Tony marched up to the table, the younger man none the wiser, and cleared his throat. 

“Parker,” he said sternly, and Peter’s lighthearted chatter was interrupted as he realized Tony wasn’t the waiter. His eyes grew large, and the previously suave look he had managed on his face quickly disappeared. 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter’s voice increased in pitch. “H-hi…” Peter fumbled with the glass in his hands and his eyes flitted to his date. “You remember my…  _ friend _ from highschool, MJ, right? MJ, Mr. Stark -” 

MJ greeted Tony with a nod and a  _ “Sup _ ?” and Tony simply flashed a smile at her, before turning back to his prey. 

“Care to explain?” 

“Well, F.R.I.D.A.Y. said you were gone for the week, and you had mentioned that I could borrow your cars whenever -”

“I said what, now?” 

“Like how I borrowed the Audi for prom?” Peter said hopefully. Tony glowered. “I thought as long as I brought it back in a timely manner, and in perfect condition, that maybe it was acceptable -”

“That’s where you’re wrong, because  _ you don’t think _ -” 

“You let Harley borrow the Mustang for his camping trip!” Peter was sweating now, perspiration pooling on his upper lip. 

“ _ Excuse me _ ?” Tony was losing his grip. He had absolutely not, in any shape or form, let Harley borrow any of his cars for any reason. This was the last straw. Ever since last year when Harley broke into and reset F.R.I.D.A.Y’s security protocols, he wasn’t sure he could even trust the A.I. anymore. Or maybe he couldn’t trust the kids… He could see Peter deflating, but his date seemed completely nonchalant. 

“Told you he wasn’t supposed to,” she narrowed her eyes at Peter, sipping her water. Peter balked, and Tony tried to remember all of those things Stephen had told him to do when he was about to lose his temper in public. Something about breathing, not screaming at the top of his lungs, not baiting the paparazzi, not strangling Spiderman in the middle of a restaurant… 

“House meeting tomorrow, you and Harley better be there or so help me  _ god _ ,” Tony spat. He collected himself, flattening his shirt, and calmly addressed Peter’s date. “Good to see you, MJ.”

She smiled at him briefly before turning her attention back to the squirming form Peter was reduced to. He wasn’t sure how he managed to have this glaring miscommunication about the  _ use of his cars _ and he couldn’t imagine what else was slipping through the cracks while he was apparently distracted. 

“Tomorrow,” he said menacingly to Peter. “And that car better be back at the tower  _ tonight _ . And no more street parking, for fuck’s sake.” 

The host, standing awkwardly behind him, led him silently to the table where Christine sat. A bottle of white wine was already chilling on the table, her glass half drank. She looked at him expectantly as he sat down, her eyes twinkling like usual, and he could feel the questions brimming on her lips but he stopped them with a single statement. 

“Damn kids.” 

\---

Tony was no stranger to wine-ing and dining, but it took well into their third course and second bottle of wine for Christine to start opening up. She evaded any hints or suggestions when Tony prodded about Stephen’s past, choosing to renavigate their conversations to something else. It was like having a conversation with goldfish, the topics resetting every thirty seconds as Christine blushed and became uncomfortable. 

She’d had quiet moments with Tony before. When they had dinner parties, just the four of them, Tony and Christine would often escape to the kitchen to gossip under the guise of doing the dishes. Stephen didn’t mind, Nicodemus didn’t know any better. They could laugh, poking fun at Stephen’s emotional shortcomings (Tony’s were off limits), and they could reminisce or commiserate about silly things their partners did. Christine was entertaining, and after there was some alcohol in her system, she didn’t mind talking about her relationship with Stephen at all. 

It was painful. Stephen was a different person back then, and she was too - but Tony hated to admit he liked to hear about these things just  _ in case _ Stephen’s old behavior started to resurface. Like when he would stand Christine up constantly on their dinner dates, or when he would sleep with other women when Christine was away at conferences, or how she always came back knowing both of those things about him… Christine was in the middle of a ranting story, chronicling one of Stephen’s errant escapades with a hooker in LES, when she noticed Tony’s regard shift. He went from laughing with her to staring at her intently, hanging onto her every word. 

“I, uh… anyway, it’s not a very good story. Thanks to modern medicine Stephen is now free from venereal disease. I’m assuming,” she sipped the last of her wine and pursed her lips. “But that’s not what you wanted to talk about.” 

“No,” Tony folded his arms on the table. There was a pregnant pause in the air while he studied her. “Did he tell you about his brother?” 

“I don’t think I should tell you, if he didn’t -”

“C’mon, it’s just us. I won’t tell him you told me, I’m going to meet him anyway. Just… what do you know?” Tony persisted, but Christine was silent as the waiter swooped in to refill her wine glass. “Or… what can you tell me about his mother? Stephen always said she was a -”

“Whore, I know,” Christine finished for him, “And I never met her. But she did leave a voicemail on his machine once, something about signing the family property in the Hamptons over to her. His father left it to Stephen, and y’know, he never used it. Not after… Just rented it out for extra cash.”

Her face twisted and Tony thought she might cry. Maybe they’d had too much wine. 

“But… It was a scathing message. Just absolutely horrible. I’m not surprised Stephen stopped talking to her after his sister died,” Christine frowned. “From what I understand, Beverly is a pernicious and vindictive person. I’m not sure what you’re searching for going after her, but… be careful.” 

“Vindictive? How?”

“When she called, Stephen lied and told her he already gave the estate away to a charity.” 

“And Stephen didn’t do that.”

“No, he sold it and gambled away the money. But that’s not the point - when he said he did that, she was so enraged, saying she would do this, that, and the other thing but what  _ really _ struck home was that she said she would go over his head about the family property in England, claiming she’d found some sort of loophole and Stephen would never be able to set foot in Cheshire ever again. The next thing he knew his name was off the estate, and Beverly Strange was taking it over. He never spoke about it, but I could tell it hurt. That house was the last real connection Stephen had to his father, and Beverly just…” Christine trailed off, mindlessly swirling the wine in her glass. 

“And… Did he ever tell you about his brother? Victor?” Tony pressed, hoping he wasn’t going too far. Christine looked incredibly sad, and Tony waited for her.

“After Donna died, everything changed for them,” Christine said finally. “Everyone got uprooted, Stephen went to private school in New England, Victor got committed and even though his parents were working on a divorce, his father suffered a massive coronary before they could finish filing.” 

Finally. This was material he could work with, this was the most he’d ever heard about it. His heart hurt for Stephen, but all Tony wanted to do was unpack all of this, categorize and compile the information, and then store it away forever. He just had to  _ know _ . 

“Victor isn’t a nice person, Tony,” Christine looked at him with concern, her voice quiet. “I know you’re used to dealing with dangerous people, but uh… if Stephen knew what you were doing…”

“Lucky for us, he’ll never know,” Tony said confidently as his phone rang. Christine nodded, and he checked who was calling - it was Nat! Thrilled, he tried to contain his excitement as he answered. 

“Hey stranger,” Tony said quietly. He would normally take his calls outside, but he didn’t want to leave Christine, didn’t want her rethinking everything she had just told him. “How did the house hunt go?” 

“ _ I found him _ ,” Nat’s voice rang in his ear and he smiled. “ _ But uh… Things went kind of sideways and I think I may need your assistance _ .”

“You can’t come back to the tower tonight to talk about it? You should probably sleep on it, it’s a big decision,” Tony tried not to flinch as he heard Natasha swear, the sound of her hitting flesh and a man’s groan in the background. Tony winked at Christine. 

“ _ If you don’t want this fucker dead, I suggest you meet me in Jersey in half an hour. I’ll send you the coordinates _ ,” Nat hung up abruptly, and his phone blipped with a location on the map. Smiling so as not to alarm Christine, he tucked his phone safely back into his breast pocket. 

“It was my friend Tasha,” he said evenly, “She’s using your realtor friend to find a house.”

Christine beamed, and Tony managed to flag down the waiter quickly. He thanked Christine profusely for meeting with him, hailed her a cab, and sent her home with a kiss on the cheek. He hoped she wasn’t the texting kind of person, and that she wouldn’t spill the beans to Stephen at a later date. Maybe that was a foolish wish, considering all that she had told him - but Tony had to have hope. More importantly, he had to go meet Nat. Tapping his arc reactor, he enabled his suit as he walked down an empty side street. 

Tony was going to meet Victor Strange. 


	9. Evil (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony regrets meeting Victor a tiny bit. Harley leaves a surprise in the fridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Leave some shards under the belly  
>  Lay some grease inside my hand  
> It's a sentimental jury  
> And the makings of a good plan  
> _  
> \--Interpol

“Stephen.” 

The sorcerer was consumed by his thoughts, standing silently. His grey eyes studied the levitating book before him. Glowing light emitted from its pages. Was he absorbed in its history? Its secrets? Was he drawn to its dark power? Wong cleared his throat. 

“ _Stephen_.”

He looked up then, clearly distracted, and gave the other sorcerer a discerning nod. 

“If you do this, there’s no turning back,” Wong said gravely. “We’ll understand, certainly, if you’d like to make a phone call.”

Wong indicated to the people surrounding them. Several masters stood around them in a circle waiting patiently; their hoods hung over their faces concealing their true emotions. If any of them were experiencing any sort of doubt, Stephen wouldn’t know. All he could hear was the blood pumping through his own ears. 

“No,” he said finitely, drawing a deep breath and firming his stance on the ground. “We need to do this now, there’s no time to wait.” 

Wong nodded. “Masters, take your positions.”

The circle became tighter, each sorcerer binding their arms with their neighbor. Stephen felt the rush of magic, felt the connectedness, and he was instilled with confidence. 

“Are you ready?” Wong asked, his fingertips brimming with magic. He was ready to begin the incantation. 

“I am.”

With another deep breath, Stephen stepped forward. 

* * *

The flight over was uneventful. Bright lights from the ever-luminescent city became a distant memory as Tony got closer to his destination. Landing as quietly as he could, he disabled his suit and walked down the city street. Two out of the three lamp lights were out, the third merely flickering. Natasha’s coordinates led him to a dilapidated two-story townhouse. Trash littered the street and yard; he kicked cans out of the way as he opened the rusted chain link fence. All of the lights were off except for one on the second floor. 

He climbed the stairs and as he approached the door, he could hear the unmistakable sound of Natasha talking to herself in Russian. When he entered the kitchen she stopped pacing, throwing her hands up at him as he surveyed the scene. 

“ _Where were you_?” She said exasperatedly. “I feel like I’ve been here for hours with this creep!”

Muffled protest came from a man strapped to a dining room chair, his head covered with a reusable shopping bag. 

“Christ, did you really have to gag him?” Tony walked towards the struggling man. 

“He wouldn’t stop screaming,” Nat crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. Every surface was filthy. Dirty dishes piled out of the sink, half eaten take-out boxes took up most of the surface area, and the smell of rancid and rotting food permeated the kitchen. 

“And whose fault is that?” Ripping the bag off of Victor’s head, he was taken aback by the familial resemblance. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his eyes unfocused as he adjusted to the fluorescent lighting. Even though his long hair was greasy and his eyes were murky brown and deeply inset - his cheekbones resembled Stephen’s to a tee. His build was similar to Stephen’s, lanky and maybe muscular. He wore ill-fitted clothes, blood spattered down the front from what he could only imagine was an encounter with Natasha’s angry fist. 

Tony didn’t look directly at her, taking a moment to peruse the literature piled up on the dining table. Scattered across were old newspapers, overdue utility bills, and even some mail addressed to other people, opened. His shoes stuck to the floor as he walked around the tiny one bedroom apartment. He walked across the tiny living room to poke his head into Victor’s bedroom. A twin bed lay adjacent to the wall with a window, a dresser and nightstand squeezed beside. Otherwise the room was quite barren. 

The door next to the bedroom led to the bathroom. It was equally unimpressive and unclean. Next to that, however, led to a fairly large closet which, upon further inspection, doubled as a dark room. A small table held basins for the chemical baths, and several photos were hanging to dry. Tony peered closer…

“I found him in the park taking pictures of little kids,” Natasha said loudly, shooting a glare at their makeshift prisoner. “I wouldn’t look too closely at those if I were you.” 

Tony let the closet door close with a gentle click. Even the doorknob seemed sticky. Rage was boiling beneath his skin and he tried to remember why he had even shown up in the first place. His plan for the evening had been no blood, no tears. No matter what Romanoff had done before he had arrived, he wanted to be as civil as possible. Even though things had gone _sideways_ , as she put it, there was no reason for him to add fuel to the fire. He was a father and a public figure. Even if he could pay off anyone, there was no reason why he should be inciting fights, especially with someone he considered to be a future brother-in-law. This was a friendly interrogation. The least amount of blood spilled would be desirable. 

He marched over to Victor and ripped out the dirty sock that Nat had shoved in his mouth.

“Listen, Seedlestiltskin,” He leant in close to Victor’s face. He tried not to react to the bodily stench assaulting his nose. It smelled… acrid. “We have very limited time and I’m not going to spend most of it listening to you whine. You’re going to answer our questions and if you go beyond that, my lady here will shoot your kneecaps off. Capisce?”

Victor nodded, a twisted grin curling on his lips. 

“Excellent,” Tony clapped his hands together, displeased to discover a sticky film on his fingertips. “Are you currently employed?” 

“At a convenience store down the block,” Victor rasped. His beady eyes didn’t leave Tony as he watched him walk around. “They let me work nights, because I have a skin condition -”

“Doesn’t stop you from going to the park, does it?” Tony quipped, feeling his cheeks get hot. “What are you planning to do with those photos?” 

“What do you _think_?” Victor said dryly, and Tony grit his jaw, wishing he could just punch him in the face. Annoyed, Tony turned to Nat. 

“Rap sheet?”

“A couple felonies, several misdemeanors. Indecent exposure, theft, drug possession,” She recited casually, inspecting a couple of pieces of glassware. 

“So basically your average low-life criminal,” Tony asked, his eyes not leaving the putrid man. 

“Basically. Vodka?” Nat offered, holding up the cleanest glasses she could find. Tony shrugged and she poured him a serving. Victor rolled his eyes. 

“If you’re not going to kill me, Mr. Stark, what do you want from me?” He shifted in the chair, trying to break free for a moment, but Nat had done a wonderful job tying him up. His wrists were bound together and to the back of the chair, his legs tied to the chair legs. One false move and he would simply tip over. 

“Well, Count Duckula, the original plan was surveillance,” Tony took a sip of the bottom shelf vodka. It tasted like straight ethanol, but at this moment, he didn’t care. He looked sideways at Nat, who had already finished her glass, and added, “Not quite sure how we ended up here…”

“He attacked me,” she said evenly. 

“She was stalking me!” Victor balked. The room exploded with conversation as Nat defended herself loudly, Victor continued to tell his side of the story and Tony couldn’t decide which person to address first. Nat was adamant that she had taken thirty seconds to text Bruce back and the next thing she knew Victor had tried to sneak up on her. When she had him subdued (also thirty seconds, according to her) she had no choice but to bring him back and tie him up. Victor shook his head and laughed. “I was minding my own business. As you should, too. What interest am I to the great Tony Stark? Or is this… a personal quest? Perhaps concerning my elder brother?”

Tony was unsettled. He wasn’t used to losing control of the room and here they were, listening to Victor’s monologue. Tony was no longer in charge of this conversation and Victor knew it. 

“Listen, Mr. Stark, before I listened to you and Miss _Solonik_ over here argue, I thought Stephen sent you to kill me,” As he smiled, a previously congealed cut tore open and blood ran down his lip. He ran his tongue over it thoughtfully. “But as I sit here… I’m realizing that is not the case. So tell me. What is it that you want to know?” 

Victor cocked his head to the side, his face amused as he studied the two Avengers standing awkwardly in his kitchen. Tony collected himself and cleared his throat. 

“What were the circumstances of your sister’s death?” He said finally. 

“Rip tide. Most unfortunate.”

“Nothing suspicious? No foul play?”

“The only suspicious force at play was nature, Mr. Stark.” 

“Could anyone corroborate your story?”

“Besides Stephen himself? No.” Victor sighed, the loose smile still clinging to his lips. “Truly tragic tale. Survival of the fittest and all that.”

“And how did your parents react?”

“Well… Father had a genetic heart condition, sadly. But Mother always made exceptions for me.” 

The serene look that Victor was giving Tony sent chills up his spine. He couldn’t get a read on this guy objectively - everything Victor seemed to do was an act. He hadn’t even displayed any sort of genuine fear, or maybe Tony didn’t inspire fear anymore. How did he know he had the upper hand? Turning on the tap, he indicated for Nat to lean in so she could hear him.

“I can’t anymore,” he whispered, letting the water run over his fingers for a moment before refilling his glass. “He makes my skin crawl.” 

“Should we -” Natasha made a cutting motion across her throat with her pointer finger, “ - him?”

“What? No. This was just supposed to be recon, not a fucking hit.”

“Fine,” Nat’s face had gone from hopeful to disappointed. Huffing, she walked to Victor’s side, ready for Tony’s signal. “Are you done here, then?” 

“Do it,” Tony took a sip of water - the vodka would have been cleaner. He walked out of the apartment with Natasha seconds later, the unconscious form of Victor Strange slumped over in his chair. 

\---  
  


“So we’re calling the cops, right?” Nat had parked a few blocks away in a nicer part of the neighborhood. He supposed she should have taken a more subtle vehicle than one of his luxury cars. 

“He didn’t do anything wrong, as far as we know. He’s just a creep,” Tony said quietly. He didn’t even sound like himself. She stopped walking and whacked him on the shoulder.

“You saw those photos!”

“Yeah! I did! And as fucking weird as it is, and maybe there’s a privacy violation somewhere, there’s nothing illegal about taking pictures of random kids in the park!” He walked around her and continued to move ahead on the sidewalk. 

“You know there’s something wrong there,” She caught up to him quickly.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Don’t be naive. He could hurt someone, Tony! Maybe he already has!”

“Maybe is a strong word!” He said firmly, finally taking a side step to look her in the eye. “We’re not cops, Romanoff. Let’s leave it to the professionals.” 

“What??” 

“I didn’t come here to throw him in jail. Looks like he can do that by himself.”

“Then what did you come here for?”

“I… I just wanted to judge his character,” he told himself, mostly.

“Well. Stephen stopped talking to him years ago,” She clicked the button to unlock the car and without a second glance at Tony, she opened the driver’s side door. “So maybe you should just trust his judgment instead.” 

  
\---

He felt… dirty. Uncovering Victor Strange was something he would like to erase from his memory and with some quality scotch, he just might be able to. He never really intended to meet the guy, he had told Natasha to just check him out. But she was distracted these days. 

When they arrived back at Stark Tower, neither of them spoke and Nat silently made two martinis. She handed him one and disappeared down the dark hallway, probably to take a well-deserved shower. Hell, Tony felt he needed a decontamination shower at this point. Sipping his drink, he looked out the windows at the city that never sleeps. Natasha was right. He could cancel with Beverly, and after this incident with Victor, maybe he ought to. Maybe it was the right thing to do. 

A glass of scotch on the rocks helped him mull it over. Natasha had briefly said good-night as she headed to a guest room. Normally she might join him for another nightcap, but the day was exhausting - mentally and physically. He considered his game plan. Meeting Beverly would be different, he would have the advantage of a disguise, and she would be anticipating meeting someone else. If she still thought Stephen was a practicing doctor, no way she knew he was dating Tony Stark. There was nothing suspicious about this. She would never know what he was really doing. 

And what _was_ Tony really doing? He felt crazy. He had no idea why he had such a _desire_ to meet these people, these probably horrible people, and he couldn’t articulate what he expected to derive from this. Shouldn’t Stephen’s words be enough? Why couldn’t he just have faith that Stephen’s observations were astute?

Then again, before Stephen had left, he did say - “ _I will tell you everything_.” Tony would be lying if he said this tiny phrase didn’t attack his brain every minute of the day, gnawing away at his subconscious. Generally, he didn’t care or care to know where Stephen went during his Sorcerer Supreme excursions. All he cared was that Stephen came home safe and unscathed. But now… he was really beginning to wonder. Prior to this, Stephen’s work didn’t really affect their day to day lives. It was like a 9-5 except instead of working eight hours a day he might be gone for eight days. He’d call if he could but if Tony didn’t hear from him, he didn’t worry. If he heard from someone at the Sanctum, he worried. 

As the sun crept up behind the horizon, Tony willed himself to go to bed. Even if he got a few hours of sleep, he might feel a little bit better. Peter had sent him approximately forty texts the night before, apologizing for borrowing the car without permission, and he also sent word that Harley would be at the tower for the house meeting. Tony wasn’t sure when the teenagers would arrive, but he was certain his glorified nap would be interrupted. Reluctantly, he closed the blinds in his bedroom and crawled underneath his duvet. Whatever the day may bring, he would find out in a few hours. 

\---

 _CRASH_.

Startled awake, Tony leapt out of bed. He struggled to get his shirt on and ran down the hallway. He was seconds away from activating his suit when his eyes focused on the source of the noise - Peter and Harley were bringing in their luggage and had tipped over a very large, very expensive crystal sculpture. 

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” Peter said meekly. “There’s um… some coffee in the pot.” 

He didn’t say a word as Harley crept over to the cleaning closet and took out a broom, didn’t say a word as he poured himself a coffee and heard them trying to pick up pieces of the sculpture into a black trash bag. He didn’t say a word until the mess was cleaned up, their luggage situated in their own bedrooms, and the two teenagers quietly joined him at the kitchen island. 

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Tony didn’t look up from the newspaper he was reading. At least he could still instill fear in these two nimrods. “My cars are back in the garage, I trust?” 

Mumbled _yes sirs_ came out of their mouths. 

“I’m going away for the weekend, but we have to lay down some ground rules,” He stole a glance over the top of his paper. Peter had his hands clasped on the counter, his eyes focused on some arbitrary point in front of him. Harley sat slouched at the island, his head resting on his forearms. “No more borrowing the luxury vehicles, the door to that garage bay will be locked and no, F.R.I.D.A.Y. won’t have access to it either. Don’t even bother. Secondly, you’re not allowed in my lab. You can play in Banner’s old lab if you really want to, but there’s nothing in there, I checked. Stephen’s office is also out of bounds. Thirdly, Natasha will be here -” Harley picked his head up, suddenly rapt with attention, “and so will Morgan and James. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and definitely don’t do anything I _would_ do.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. He’d heard that line like, a thousand times. 

“As far as the rest of the summer goes, this is my house and you will treat me and it with respect,” Tony got up from his stool and wandered over to the fridge. “That means keeping your rooms clean, keeping the common areas tidy. That means -”

He stopped as his eyes fell on a plastic bag shoved haphazardly on the refrigerator shelf. A certain smell was coming from the fridge, and he couldn’t quite place it. He grabbed the plastic bag and carefully opened it. When he realized what it was, he almost dropped it.

“What the _fuck_ is a dead skunk doing in the fridge?” He shouted, but it was rhetorical. “Harley??” 

“It was perfect roadkill,” Harley shrugged. “Couldn’t let it go to waste. It’ll make some interesting leather.” 

“You hit a skunk with my Mustang?”

“No, someone _else_ hit the skunk, I just drove back from the camping site with it,” Harley took the bag out of Tony’s hands and shoved it back in the fridge. Tony quickly lost his appetite. 

“Ok,” he rubbed his forehead, he could feel a headache coming on. “Whatever… whatever you do with that, please don’t do it in here, for fuck’s sake…” 

“Morning boys,” Natasha sauntered into the kitchen looking cheery and rested. Peter greeted her with a smile and Harley shrunk where he stood. To say he had a massive crush on Natasha was an understatement. “Bit of an unconventional breakfast, isn’t it?” 

Tony was so relieved that whatever happened this weekend would not be his problem. He had bigger fish to fry. 

\---

“Sir, we’ve almost arrived at our destination. And Miss Potts is calling,” an attendant handed him a phone and he smiled at her. He watched her disappear down the aisle and then answered. 

“Hi, honey,” knowing he was about to get an earful, he carefully took the phone away from his face.  
“ _WHERE ARE YOU_?” Pepper’s voice screamed through the speaker.

“Um, I think we were over Belfast a little bit ago, but -”

“Why is Tasha at Stark Tower and you’re not?” She spat, and before Tony could respond she added, “I _told_ you - I literally JUST told you that I was going away this weekend, and you _promised_ you would be home to watch the kids!”

“Well, duty calls unfortunately,” he knew she hated it when he was vague or cavalier. 

“I don’t ask for much, Tony, just keeping your word would be nice,” she let her words hang in the air while Tony thought of a response. 

“So you and Happy can go on a romantic getaway? Is that what you mean by _girls weekend_ now?” He chewed his tongue while he waited. He could hear her grappling with her words. Got ‘em. “Have fun, by the way. I heard Saratoga is beautiful this time of year.” 

Pepper was so silent Tony wasn’t even positive she was still on the line. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow, don’t worry. They’ll survive one night,” Tony said. “And I mean it, have some fun. Tell Hogan to enjoy my sloppy seconds.” 

Pepper snorted. “Really? You’re calling _me_ sloppy? Mr.-Gets-Drunk-And-Flies-into-Buildings?” 

“It was a joke, _dear_ ,” It was sort of a joke. “I gotta go, we’re descending.” 

“Fine,” she said, annoyed. “Oh, and Tony?” 

“Yes?”

“Eat dirt.”

He smiled as he handed the phone back to the attendant. This was going to be an interesting weekend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Womp womp womp. What's Stephen getting into? How will Tony's meeting with Bev go?? Leave a comment and tell me whatcha think.


	10. Evil (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony meets mama Strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Why can't we just play the other game?  
>  Why can't we just look the other way?  
> _  
> \--Interpol

He’d decided on a relaxed New England accent. He was Anthony Staples, born and raised in Boston, but a brand new transplant to New York. He’d worked on smaller papers for most of his life but with his recent move to New York City, he’d finally nabbed a job at the elite New York Times. His first article was a complete expose of this glorified doctor, Stephen Strange, and he knew nothing about this man apart from a scant Wikipedia article. It was perfect, right? 

Everything about this was normal. Or at least, that’s how he reassured himself as he took out the very specific briefcase Natasha had packed for him. He had a convincing blonde wig, bright blue contact lenses, and after a little sobbing, he shaved off his infamous goatee. The man looking back at him in the mirror looked like a total douchebag. Actually, he looked a lot like the ex of Stephen’s he had punched in the face.

Matthew Brooks. Total asshole - sleazy, disgusting, vile. Tony didn’t need to ever see that man again to get an impression of their relationship. While Stephen didn’t talk about his family much, during his vulnerable moments he would talk about Matthew. Maybe it felt more safe because Stephen was technically an adult when everything went down, maybe it was the one trauma that Stephen had actually come to terms with - Tony didn’t know, he just sat and listened. 

It often came up after a fight, when Tony would pull up old baggage and use it as artillery. Stephen would get quiet every time, letting Tony shout out his feelings. Eventually, Stephen would take a deep breath and just say, “I understand where you are coming from. However, I don’t believe you need to raise your voice at me. Text me when you are ready to talk.” And then he would remove himself from the room. 

Later, they would talk things out rationally and calmly. Tony’s therapist had impressed on him to use “ _ I feel _ ” statements, and to approach problems using “ _ we _ ” instead of “ _ you _ ”. It helped, sometimes. When they were in bed snuggling, Stephen’s voice would whisper out into the darkness. He’d say how Matthew used to yell at him, used to berate him. Each time, Tony would feel worse. He registered how Stephen hunched his shoulders, how he hugged himself while Tony let him have it. He was working on not raising his voice but damn, it was difficult. Stephen was always there for him. If Tony wanted this forever, he’d have to do the same. 

Maybe Tony had some trust issues. Ok, he had a lot of trust issues. But that didn’t mean that Stephen could opt out of sharing details about his life, right? Didn’t Tony deserve just a little bit? He tried not to spiral into an anxiety attack while he sat in his hotel room. Christine was right - Victor was totally unhinged and definitely not a nice person - but Stephen had never even  _ mentioned _ him. Even if they only spent the early part of their childhood together, a sibling is worth mentioning. Stephen could have told Tony he was dead at least. 

He lay on his back, clasping his hands together on his belly. He closed his eyes, listening to the fan clicking overhead. What did he know so far? Was this a successful endeavor? He hoped his efforts were worth it. He’d taken a Stark Industries jet and hoped Pepper wasn’t going to look into it. 

Stephen was born and raised in New York City. After his sister died, Stephen went to a private school in New England, did extremely well and pretty much was always set to go to medical school. Stephen had always been pretty vague about his childhood and teenage years. All Tony knew about his undergrad was that Stephen had an incredibly abusive boyfriend, and later, Christine became his emotional punching bag. They were much better now, but Tony still wondered. He just wanted to fill in all of the gaps, wanted closure. He was already here, anyway - he might as well just buck up and own his drunken enterprise to meet Stephen’s mother. 

  
  


He was told to wait in the library for her. The press badge Natasha had managed to procure for him seemed to verify his credentials, and he fiddled with it as he sat on a suede settee. The house was immaculate, perfectly English - complete with a wrought iron gate and a pristine limestone exterior. The library was full of old books, the room had been renovated with a modern look. 

“Good morning, Mr. Staples.” 

Tony shot out of his seat and stood. She spoke with a contrived accent. Tony knew it couldn’t be authentic - she was born in Nebraska. With her designer shoes on, she was taller than him. She had quite a sturdy frame, and Tony was taken aback when they shook hands. Stephen had her eyes. Her gaze pierced through him, and for a second he didn’t know if he would be able to make it. Even though he had his colored contacts in, he felt like she knew. 

“Thank you so much for meeting with me, Mrs. Strange,” he said, hoping his accent was convincing. “I know you must be very busy.” 

She smiled almost fondly. “Let’s get to it, then.” 

He was surprised how easily it went. He was able to catch her up on the latest feats of Stephen’s medical career. He rattled off what he could remember, being sure to embellish a little bit on current events. She certainly acted like a proud mother, recalling memories of Stephen as a child. Tony’s heart swelled. 

“He was always so inquisitive,” she stirred a sugar into her tea absentmindedly. “He always wanted to know _ why _ and at some point our answers couldn’t satisfy his curiosity. He truly stopped asking us anything by the time he could read.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to find the answer yourself,” Tony said, still imagining a younger version of Stephen with his nose buried in a book instead of playing. Seemed typical. 

“Indeed it is,” Beverly opened her desk drawer and pulled out an old frame. She handed it to Tony, and couldn’t help but smile. With a sibling under each arm, a young, gangly Stephen was grinning up at him. Donna was hugging him, hiding part of her face in his side. Victor looked a little constipated, leaning slightly away from Stephen and managing barely a grimace for the camera. Beverly’s voice interrupted Tony’s thoughts. “Is that why you’re here, Mr. Stark?”

He blinked. “Excuse me? I’m not -”

“Of course not,” she drawled, taking the picture frame back. “Because why would New York Times have any interest in Stephen when he hasn’t published in years? You might think me an entirely negligent mother but I assure you I am not.” 

Tony didn’t know how to respond to that. The amount of times a Strange had left him speechless this week was getting to be too high. 

“We may not speak,” Beverly continued, “But I keep tabs on both of my sons, no matter how reluctant Stephen is. I know you two are coupled, the whole world does.” 

Frustrated, he ripped the blonde wig off his head. “You knew it was me this whole time?”

“Of course. When Victor called and explained your recent encounter -”

“Victor called you?” He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he had Nat keeping track of all of Victor’s phone calls. She hadn’t picked up anything. 

“You’re not the only person on the planet with the ability to encrypt phone calls,” she said cooly. “Of course he called me.”

“Then why… why did you let me do this?” He was incredulous. He’d put so much  _ work _ into this fucking meeting, researching things to talk about, obsessing about his fake appearance… 

“It was clearly important to you to remain covert, no matter how poorly you executed it,” she poured herself more tea and looked at him, waiting. 

“So… what. What’s your angle here? Blackmail?” He leaned forward in his chair, nausea taking over. “I have money.”

“Please. If your history has anything to say about you, you’re quite good at incriminating yourself,” she smirked and Tony thought he might be sick. “And I know anything you hear in this room won’t  _ leave  _ this room because Stephen doesn’t even know you’re here, does he?”

His silence answered her question.

“I thought so,” she stood and circled the room, taking her tea with her. She paused in front of the window overlooking her perfectly maintained lawn. “So why did you come all this way?”

“I just… I just wanted to find out more,” he rubbed his forehead. “Stephen doesn’t like to talk about it.” 

She sighed, still looking out the window. “Stephen’s father, Eugene - he was magnificent,” she said wistfully. “A promising young solicitor. He swept me off my feet when we met.” 

“Where did you meet?” 

Her face lit up as she dove into a whirlwind of a story. She was in New York visiting a friend when she met Eugene at a bar, and the two hit it off immediately. He was suave, sophisticated, and British. Her small town heart couldn’t get over it. Even when she went back to her college, he called her. Within six months of her graduating, she had moved to the city to be with him, and he proposed. 

It sounded romantic. Tony wondered what it must be like to propose to someone and not have them be pissed off after. Pepper was super annoyed when he asked, even if she blew him in the car ride home. Beverly went into detail about their marriage, reminiscing about all of the fun parties they went to and the finery he bought for her. She described her first visit to the house in the Hamptons and Tony watched as her lip formed a thin line as she probably remembered her argument with Stephen. She became quiet then, watching a hummingbird flit around a feeder situated in front of the window. 

“Were your children close?” He prodded. Growing up as a single child, he always marveled at sibling relationships. Rhodey and Jenny were close growing up, stopped talking in their early twenties, but by the time Rhodey donned the suit, they were talking again. Rhodey was always on the phone with his sister, and she was adamant about checking in on him. Tony imagined that was maybe the kind of relationship he had fostered with Nat. 

“Oh, quite,” she nodded, finally sitting on a loveseat opposite Tony. “Victor followed Stephen everywhere. They are three years apart, you know. Positively idolized his older brother. Like two peas in a pod before we had Donna.” 

“And after?”

“She was a complete surprise. We certainly weren’t trying, but these things happen,” for once, she looked concerned. “Eugene always wanted a girl. She was the light of his life.” 

Tony thought back to the picture Beverly had shown him. She looked like she was kindergarten-age, the hidden grin on her face reminded him of Morgan. The way her hands clutched in Stephen’s t-shirt - she really loved her big brother. 

“Victor became pretty despondent. Acted out at school, yelled a lot, that sort of thing,” she took a sip of her tea but Tony was pretty confident her cup was empty. The way she described it made it sound perfectly normal. “There just wasn’t anything we could do. I think he wanted Stephen’s attention, but Stephen was never  _ there _ . He was always off doing something - had his nose stuck in a book, or some biology project.” 

Tony certainly could relate to that. Even if Stephen was sitting right next to him, there was no guarantee he was mentally present. 

“After the accident -” Tony started, but she shot him a withering look.

“Oh  _ darling _ ,” she said condescendingly. “It wasn’t an accident. Is that what Stephen told you?” 

Hold the fuck on. His mind reeled. What did she just say? Victor had told him it was a riptide current. Victor said it was an accident. He searched his mind, trying to remember the words Stephen had used to talk about Donna. Did he say  _ incident _ or  _ accident _ ? No, Stephen always said,  _ after my sister’s death _ . Never elaborated. If Stephen and Victor were the only ones present… what else had Victor said? Tony thought back to that disgusting apartment.  _ Father had a genetic heart condition, sadly. But Mother always made exceptions for me. _ It was all making sense - Stephen’s avoidance of the topic had only fueled his curiosity, but fuck. Some rocks really should be left unturned. 

“You knew,” Tony said slowly, his voice trembling as he spoke. “You were fully aware that Victor killed your daughter?”

She didn’t miss a beat.

“Of course I knew,” she spat, finally looking him in the eye. Tony could see the pain, the hate, the vitriol. “But what was I to do? Lose two children? There are times in your life where you have to pick the lesser evil and I chose to stand by my son.” 

“Even if it meant losing your other son?” Any respect or admiration he might have had for Beverly quickly disappeared. Anger was boiling to the surface, he just wanted to hug Stephen and apologize even though none of it was his fault. He was a victim of his childhood, victim of his circumstances, and he was raised by a fucking psychopath. 

“How Stephen reacted after his father's death was entirely on him. I tried, believe you me. But he was belligerent. Arrogant. Wouldn’t listen to a word I said. He didn’t even know the scope of Victor's confession at the time, he was barely a teenager when we found out. It’s just a character flaw. You would do best to separate yourself from him, once he gets an idea in his head it’ll never come out.”

Tony wanted to laugh. Even after all of these years, she still managed to make the whole ordeal about  _ her _ . Here she was, sitting high and mighty in her castle while Victor still ran rampant. No wonder Victor thought Stephen was coming to kill him. If Tony knew what he knew now, he might have killed him too. 

She would never know how much Stephen had done for humanity, and fuck her - she didn’t deserve to know. She didn’t deserve to know how wonderful Stephen turned out despite her, how he was so resilient and managed to learn how to love and trust somebody. She could think whatever she wanted about Stephen, but Tony was done. He didn’t give a flying fuck about Beverly’s opinion. 

“Thank you so much for your time, it’s been enlightening,” he said stiffly, trying to get out of there without incident. She didn’t stand as he did, but watched him see himself out of the library. 

“Don’t you dare go after my Victor, I’ll know if you do,” She called after him. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” which was a lie, he absolutely would be killing that motherfucker in his dreams. The largest issue he currently had was now he knew Stephen’s deepest, darkest secret. 

And Tony was terrible at keeping secrets. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extreme delay in posting. Guess who comes back next chapter!


	11. Keep You Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen's back! Tony enacts Phase Three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _When you call me back in a little  
>  When the dust starts to settle  
> All we need is a little time  
> To keep me yours and keep you mine  
> _  
> \- Shy Martin, NOTD

“You shaved.”

Tony nearly jumped out of his skin as he shut the door to the apartment. Stephen was standing in the kitchen with James on his hip, a bottle in his hand.

“I wanted to shake things up a bit,” Tony smiled and put down his suitcase. He made a mental note to incinerate it after he got a moment alone. “I didn’t know you would be home! Where’s Nat?”

“I met Bruce in the lobby,” Stephen leaned in for a kiss and Tony didn’t object. Handing James over to his father, Stephen took a seat at the kitchen island. “Sent them off to go visit a realtor. How was London?”

“London? Uh, it was great,” Tony distracted himself by making goo goo eyes at his son. “Y’know, just really had to catch a show -”

“You saw a show with the stockholders?” Stephen looked confused.

“OH them. No, no I saw it by myself -”

“What show did you see?” 

The line of questioning was throwing Tony for a loop. He was tired. “Are you hungry? I could whip us up something.” 

James pulled at his hair as he wandered over to the fridge. He hoped Harley had taken care of the dead animal, and he was trying not to melt under the discerning gaze of the sorcerer. “So what about you? How was Oz?” 

It’s how Tony described anything that happened to Stephen. There was a certain level of understanding and while Tony was mildly interested, he knew, even with a genius level intellect, there were some things beyond his comprehension and that included a  _ lot _ of things Stephen got into on a regular basis.

“Another day, another demon,” Stephen sighed. 

“Nothing special? You seemed like you took off in a hurry,” Tony said lightly. 

“No. Why do you ask?” Stephen got up from his seat and walked behind Tony, encroaching on his space. He leant in so close Tony felt his breath on his ear. “Do you have something you need to tell me?”

“No,” Tony said quickly, shoving the bottle into James’ stubby hands. “Do you?”

“No,” Stephen smiled sweetly and kissed Tony’s neck. 

\---

When Stephen had arrived at Stark Tower, Nat was drowning. One would think keeping track of four kids would be simpler, mostly because Harley was twenty. But it was no easy feat, and she found she definitely preferred to be on missions where she could kill people. In fact, the least worrisome part of all of it was the baby. 

Bruce had just arrived at Stark Tower when he met Stephen in the lobby. It was a little awkward at first, mostly because Bruce knew about the failed proposal. They ignored it and stuck to small talk in the elevator ride up. When they entered the apartment, Nat was surprised. She told Stephen Tony was off in London to dine with some stockholders, but he would be back any minute. Relieved of her duty, she happily escaped with Bruce. 

Stephen decided a little cleaning was in order. He sent Peter, Harley, and Morgan out for the day - didn’t care where - just  _ out _ . He could handle a lot of chaos but not right now. He needed to get settled, needed to get everything perfect - he needed to talk to Tony. 

He didn’t know at the moment why he didn’t tell Tony no. He should have, he should have said a lot of things. But his recent mission had physically and emotionally drained him. He barely had enough energy to drag himself to Stark Tower, but Wong demanded he leave the Sanctum, at least for a couple of days. 

What Stephen didn’t tell Tony was that he was facing an incredibly annoying enemy. The banishment of the Vikhura had vacated a position for the biggest badass in the galaxy, and Carol Danvers found herself over her head in her galaxy with douchebags who thought they could take the Vikhura’s place. It meant several little excursions across space and time, and Stephen heavily considered calling up Wanda to have her help him. He could only do so much without accessing the dark dimension to eradicate them all at once. 

It was that decision that had given Wong pause. The Darkhold was locked in the basement of the Sanctum for safekeeping, and they had only pulled it out that one time to defeat the Vikhura. It was common knowledge among the sorcerers that the Darkhold had the power to turn anyone evil - that is, the beholder was so drenched in dark magic it was almost impossible to come away unscathed. 

Stephen had felt its power tugging at his very core when he opened it. He needed it and feared it, there was no escaping it. Wong had warned him - everything he had could disappear with a blink of an eye. Was he really willing to sacrifice everything? Was he willing to lose the Avengers? His status as Sorcerer Supreme? Was he willing to forget Peter and Harley? Would he be able to handle the potential loss of his love, Tony Stark? 

To be rid of these errant fuckers once and for all, the answer was yes. Truth be told, they were more than annoying - they were becoming increasingly dangerous and reckless, and very soon Stephen would lose control of that portion of the galaxy. He had to act swiftly and decisively. He had to be consumed by the very thing that drove them to power. 

He hadn’t come to the decision lightly, and he’d been pondering his best course of action for weeks. When Tony popped the question he knew what he had to do. He couldn’t agree to marry Tony right then, he could be dead the next day. It wasn’t fair. 

It wasn’t fair to Tony, it wasn’t fair to the kids. Stephen loved spending time with Tony’s family, but that was the problem. It was  _ Tony _ ’s family, not his. He didn’t have anyone he considered family, and it had been that way for quite some time. He was truly owning his role of Sorcerer Supreme and he couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. At least, that’s what he told himself. 

\---

The kids trickled in a couple of hours later, Nat and Bruce arrived shortly after. Tony and Stephen spent the afternoon focusing all of their attention on the baby and indirectly answering each other’s questions. It wasn’t the healthiest, but it kept the attitude light and cheery. They were both exhausted and couldn’t exactly stand to have a serious conversation.

“How’s it going? ” Nat whispered to Tony as she put her coat away. “Did you tell him?

“Did you find a house?” Tony shot back, looking at her over the rim of his sunglasses. She faltered and closed the closet door harshly. 

“...I’ll start dinner.” 

With some half-assed help from Morgan, Nat and Tony pulled together quite the impressive dinner. Nat had been reading some gourmet cooking recipes and decided to pull out all the stops - she had rounds of appetizers, a couple of entrees to choose from, and had even made a magnificent trifle for dessert. Tony had to admit he didn’t contribute much beyond cutting things when she asked him to. He did, however, make a ratatouille for Stephen - knowing he would complain about the lack of vegan options at the table. 

Dinner was loud. It was how Tony loved it, surrounded by his family and friends. Peter and Harley thrilled everyone with a recounting of their weekend and Tony had to pretend not to be horrified when they described their cross-city trek with Morgan. Ultimately he trusted them, he just wished he’d sent a bodyguard for his own peace of mind. 

It was good to see Stephen laughing, they hadn’t had much occasion to laugh lately. The wine helped make him feel warm and fuzzy but all he really wanted to do was crawl over the table and lick Stephen’s face. He didn’t know why. 

Peter and Harley took Morgan and James to the living room to have a movie night, and Bruce hijacked Stephen’s attention to show him a new project he was working on. It had something to do with brains and magnets and Tony was interested, but not as interested as he was in catching up with Nat. They were able to talk while they cleared the table and started the dishes. 

“How was you-know-who?” She asked, her hands covered in soap. 

“She was a proper cunt.” 

“So… like you expected.”

“Yeah,” Tony snorted, “but so much worse.” 

“What do you mean? What does that mean?” 

“It means I have to start phase three,” he said casually. 

“What’s phase three?” Annoyed Tony wasn’t answering her questions, she stopped washing and turned to face him. “What were phases one and two? Did I miss something?”

“Ok, it’s a bit of a retcon but phase one - ask him outright. Didn’t work, obviously a poor choice. Phase two - research. Met the fam, not thrilled. Maybe I shouldn't have, but what’s done is done. But phase three,” he waved the dish rag in her face, “phase three is the clincher.” 

“Uh huh,” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“  _ Drown him in sex _ ,” Tony stated proudly. “It’s foolproof.” 

“Uh huh,” Nat repeated, equally unimpressed. “And when does phase three begin?”

“After you all go to bed,” Tony winked. “I wouldn’t leave your bedroom, by the way.”

“Oh god,” Nat rolled her eyes, “I don’t even want to know.” 

\---

Stephen turned off the light in Morgan’s bedroom. He was closing her door when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. 

**STARK** : I need your help in the lab please 

So Tony was back to working late nights. It wasn’t always a good thing, he suspected Tony was somewhere on the spectrum of being bipolar. He tended to have extreme bouts of mania, or maybe he just drank too much caffeine. It was hard to tell. Either way, he quickly made his way down to Tony’s lab. 

“Finally,” Tony’s voice rang through the lab. It was dark, all lights off except for one. In the center of the lab stood a patient examination table, and Tony sat on it, wearing a hospital gown and reading an edition of  _ Mechanics Weekly _ . “I’ve been waiting for like half an hour. That’s not good business, Doc.” 

Stephen approached him slowly, digesting the scene. “What is all this? What’s going on?” 

“What’s going  _ on _ is I’ve got a pain in my stomach region and I need you to figure out what’s going on with me.”

“Where did you get the table?”

“Harley. That kid can get  _ anything _ in this city. I didn’t ask any questions… anyway. Chop chop. Examine me, Doc.” 

Stephen was starting to realize he was in a play-pretend scenario. Either Tony had gone full blown delusional or this was some form of roleplay. He began to press his fingers into Tony’s toned stomach, rotating his movements in a circle. 

“Tell me, Mr. Stark, if you feel any pain,” Stephen lowered his voice, “or if I approach the area of concern.” 

“Sure thing,” Tony said, his voice strained. He really hated real doctor visits, but Stephen as a doctor, he could definitely get into that. He let Stephen feel around, his hands felt warm even through the thin fabric of the gown. He jumped when he felt Stephen trace his fingers on his Adonis belt. “Ooh! Near there, probably.” 

“I see,” Stephen’s hand left Tony’s pelvic bone and he began to trace his hand lightly over Tony’s bare leg. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to touch you underneath your gown, Mr. Stark. Will you let me touch you?” 

Tony could feel blood going directly to his cock. He nodded. Stephen loomed over him, his face serious and while part of it felt clinical, Tony was getting incredibly turned on. 

“Sensitivity in the pubis area could be serious,” Stephen continued his pressing motion, making circles around Tony’s growing erection. He ran traces lightly on The inside of Tony’s thighs. “I may have to check your prostate.” 

"Oh, no,” Tony said half heartedly. 

“I’m not getting anything,” Stephen stepped back. “I need to see for myself.” 

He propped Tony’s legs up in the stirrups, prompting him to scoot to the edge of the table, and rolled over in his chair to take a look. Tony felt… exposed. He could feel the heat from Stephen’s body as he leaned in and…  _ sniffed _ . Good lord. Stephen was just smelling Tony’s nether regions. Tony could feel Stephen’s nose touching the base of his cock; he was inhaling deeply. 

“Smells so good,” Stephen muttered.

“What’s that, Doc?” 

“Just need a taste,” Tony could barely hear him, definitely couldn’t see him through the gown but  _ oh _ he felt the gentle swipe of Stephen’s tongue and Tony felt like he was going to arch off the table. He was hesitant at first, but Stephen was tongue fucking Tony’s asshole like he was a starving man. He was being playful, inserting his tongue, letting Tony quiver, and then he’d circle the rim just to hear Tony moan. His nose was filled with the heady scent of Tony’s arousal, and one peek told him Tony’s cock was leaking. He, too, was more than ready to get out of his dockers - but he was a professional. He could wait. 

He reappeared, standing up from the stool to get a look at Tony’s face. He was flushed. 

“H-how’s it look down there?” Tony said, catching his breath. 

“I really need to feel the inside myself,” he strolled over to a side table. Tony had laid out a variety of toys, but one silver vibrator caught his eye. It was on the small side, but considering he couldn’t open Tony himself, it was perfect. “This should do the trick.” 

He sat next to Tony and peered underneath the gown. Adding lube to the vibrator, he gently placed it at Tony’s entrance. 

“This is just a tool to get you comfortable, I’ll need to check your prostate in a more… personal manner,” he said, watching Tony’s face as he slowly breached his hole. Flicking the vibrator on, he pushed it into Tony’s body, pulling back slowly, revelling in the slight resistance and wishing it was his own cock. Tony looked fucking edible, biting his lip as Stephen fucked him with the toy. Stephen was overcome with desire, he wanted to fuck Tony into the table, wanted to jerk his cock all over Tony’s face, wanted to swallow Tony’s cum… instead, he let the vibrator seat itself fully in Tony and walked to Tony’s side, stroking his face. 

“What do you want from me, Mr. Stark?” 

Tony’s doe eyes blinked up at him, heavily lidded as the vibrator did it’s magic. “I want you to fuck me, Doctor.” 

“I could lose my practice if I did that,” Stephen practically growled. He could see Tony’s nipples hardening through the gown, could see Tony licking his lips as he looked at Stephen’s crotch. 

“I don’t care, I’ll buy you a new one,” Stephen didn’t have time to explain that that’s not how that works. Tony reached for his pants, undoing them quickly, and pulled out Stephen’s cock. He took him in his mouth hungrily and it took all of Stephen’s might not to come right there. 

Tony was eager, riled up, and Stephen could feel his throat massaging the tip of his cock. Stephen felt Tony drag the width of his tongue from base to tip. He tried not to buck into Tony’s mouth, running his fingers through Tony’s hair as his patient moaned around his length. 

“Tony,” Stephen whispered as Tony did sinful things with his tongue. 

“That’s Mr. Stark, to you,” Tony pulled off Stephen’s cock with a  _ pop _ and laid back on the examination table. “Please help me Doc, the pain. It’s overwhelming.” 

Stephen marched to the end of the table, pulling Tony’s gown above his knees. His mouth watered at the sight - Tony’s cock was leaking precum onto his stomach, begging for Stephen’s touch. Tony was squirming, the vibrator pulsing in his ass, lube leaking onto the corner of the table. Stephen slowly pulled the vibrator out, watching Tony’s face contort. 

“Are you ready,  _ Mr. Stark _ ?” He said snarkily, letting the tip of his cock rest at the precipice of Tony’s puckered hole. 

“God yes,” Tony breathed, and Stephen gently pushed his way in. He didn’t know why, but every time he did this his mind went completely blank. He would forget how good it felt to be buried in his lover, soaking in the warmth from Tony’s body, all of his attention focused on the insane amount of even pressure Tony was exerting on his cock. He pressed himself in fully, rolling his hips, enjoying the feeling of Tony’s ass cheeks brushing his balls. “Fuck  _ me _ .”

“Pretty sure I am,” Stephen pulled out extremely slowly, then forced his way back in. 

“Faster, you prick,” Tony demanded. He was trying not to touch himself, his hands clutched to the top of the table. Stephen complied, barreling into his lover, every thrust deep and full of intent. The force of his thrusts caused Tony to scoot closer to him, and the new angle made both of them cry out. A string of profanities began to fall out of Tony’s mouth. Stephen’s lips were sealed shut. All of his concentration fell on the movement of his cock going into Tony’s body, and he couldn’t help but stare at himself. Tony was fucking gorgeous, falling apart, he looked almost feverish. Sweat made the hospital gown stick to his body, and Stephen wanted to rip it off. But he couldn’t - he was fucking Tony to within an inch of his life and nothing could stop him now. 

“Oh  _ god _ ,” Tony arched his hips, pulling Stephen in deeper. Stephen pinned Tony to the table with his hand, watching as Tony reacted to him. He slowed down the pace considerably, smiling as Tony whined. 

“Say my name,” Stephen purred, petting Tony’s cock lightly. “And I’ll make you come right now.”

“Stephen,” Tony said sheepishly. He cried out when Stephen removed his hand, thrusting his hips forward. 

“No,  _ say my name _ ,” he growled. Picking up the pace, Tony finally got the idea. He let Stephen pound into him for a while longer before he cried out. 

“Doctor  _ Strange _ !!” 

Stephen pumped Tony’s cock roughly and was rewarded when Tony shouted out again, his jizz spurting out onto Stephen’s hand. Stephen was still pounding away, chasing his orgasm. When Tony locked eyes with the sorcerer, he brought Stephen’s hand to his mouth and licked away his own cum. That’s all it took for Stephen to crumble, one last thrust and he was spilling endlessly into his lover. He collapsed onto Tony, who was still holding Stephen’s hand like it was a piece of candy. 

“I missed you,” Stephen said hoarsely, his cheek sticking to Tony’s neck. 

“I missed you, too,” Tony kissed Stephen’s forehead. 

After they caught their breath, they agreed a shower and bed sounded like a great idea. Even though Stephen was thoroughly exhausted, Tony was thrilled. This could work. He smiled to himself as they left the lab.   
  
Phase three was well underway, and Stephen was none the wiser. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long can Tony keep up the charade?


	12. Play with Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If the goal of last night was to injure yourselves I’d say you nailed it.”   
> “Oh I nailed it,” Tony said casually, “Three… no, four times last night. And once more this morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Insane, inside the danger gets me high  
>  Can't help myself got secrets I can't tell  
> I love the smell of gasoline  
> I light the match to taste the heat  
> I've always liked to play with fire  
> _  
> \- Sam Tinnesz (feat. Yacht Money)

It was morning. Sun peeked through the blinds in Tony’s bedroom and it took Stephen a few moments to remember exactly where he was. His limbs ached from the uh -  _ activities  _ from the night before, but he was comfortable. His body melted into the top of the line memory foam mattress Tony had, and at that moment, he felt nothing could get him out of bed. 

He lay on his stomach, cuddling a pillow and breathing deeply. He inhaled Tony’s scent - whenever Stephen left, Tony managed to sleep on every single pillow. Everything smelled like him, and Stephen loved it. 

His dreams had been frenzied. He couldn’t remember much, but images of the past few weeks flew through his brain. Feelings of worry, concern, restlessness. But as he slowly regained consciousness in Tony’s bed, he felt calm. He felt Tony roll over to him, pressing his warm, naked body against Stephen’s side. He felt featherweight kisses on his ear and neck, Tony’s muscular hands tracing circles on his back. He felt Tony’s smooth length brush up against his leg. 

“Good morning,” he said, rolling over to meet Tony for a kiss. Tony hummed in response, not willing to pull away from Stephen’s mouth. He brought his hand up to caress Stephen’s face as their kiss deepened. 

Stephen arched his back as he felt Tony’s hand explore his chest, his fingers gently squeezing his nipples. He melted into Tony’s kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance. Stephen felt… needy. His cock felt heavy, precum leaving a sticky trail near his belly button. He moaned into Tony’s mouth as Tony finally touched him there. 

“Good morning,” Tony said, his voice sultry. He watched Stephen’s face as he stroked his length, each pull firm but slow. He loved watching Stephen, loved seeing how his cheeks flushed, his mouth parted, his eyes closed but brows knit. He loved the little noises Stephen made, how he tried to hold back ultimately he would let out a low groan. He leant in, his lips barely kissing Stephen’s ear, “Stephen, baby. Can I get inside you?” 

Stephen’s eyes opened at that, his bright blue irises barely visible. He nodded, and the next thing he knew Tony was circling his hole with a lubed finger. Tony didn’t fuck him often, but something felt different about their lovemaking. Tony seemed possessive. 

Tony’s eyes raked over Stephen’s body as he slowly worked him open. Stephen was gorgeous - his broad, toned chest seemed to sparkle in the morning light, and Tony felt the urge to run his tongue all over Stephen’s muscled abdomen. Stephen’s cock was begging to be touched, but Tony ignored it and inserted another finger. He curled his fingers inside of his lover, earning a drawn out moan from the sorcerer. Stephen looked positively delicious, and Tony couldn’t help but grind his length against Stephen’s body. 

“Did you miss my fat cock inside of you?” he leant down and growled in Stephen’s ear. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Stephen breathed. “Give it to me.” 

“Say the word,” Tony pumped his leaking cock and situated himself between Stephen’s legs. 

“ _ Please _ give it to me, Tony,” Stephen practically whined. “I need you inside of me.”

That was Tony’s favorite part, probably. Stephen begging for his fat cock. He slicked his length up and felt Stephen take a deep breath as Tony placed himself at his entrance. He worked himself in slowly, the resistance was so tight he thought Stephen was going to squeeze his dick off. But as Tony got in further, pulling out in deep strokes, the low moan Stephen had started got louder and louder. 

“Oh  _ fuck _ ,” Stephen called out as Tony became fully seated. He stayed there without moving, letting his cock pulse in Stephen’s asshole. “That feels  _ so good _ .” 

Tony had to agree, Stephen felt  _ amazing _ and it was taking all of his willpower not to come right then. He had to think about other things, anything else, he had to try not to think about this beautiful man lying before him, writhing on his cock. And he absolutely should not look down and watch his cock disappear into Stephen, definitely shouldn’t watch Stephen’s cock jolt every time Tony thrust into him. He definitely shouldn’t pay attention to the guttural moans coming out of Stephen’s mouth, or pay attention to the fact Stephen was getting so loud he was trying to muffle himself in the crook of his elbow. 

He definitely shouldn’t pull Stephen closer so that every single thrust Tony was hitting his prostate. Nope, that would be bad - because if he did that, it meant everything would be over very, very soon. Stephen had other plans, though, as the new position caused him to abandon trying to cover his mouth and he began to fist his own cock.

“Fill me up, Tony, please!”

Tony was more than happy to oblige. He tried to focus, tried to wait, but the sound of their flesh meeting and Stephen’s wails increasing in pitch almost became too much for him. With a final cry, Stephen’s muscles clenched and Tony was seeing stars as Stephen ejaculated onto himself. Tony rutted mindlessly into his lover, sending his seed deep within. Catching his breath, he slowly pulled out, stealing a glance at Stephen’s abused hole. He smirked as his spunk trickled out moments later. 

Crawling up to Stephen’s side, Tony gave him a kiss. 

\---

Natasha tried not to burst out laughing when Tony and Stephen finally made their way to the kitchen. Maybe it was because Harley had zero filter when he described the way the two men ambled down the hallway, hunched over, tired, stiff, but clearly so very happy. He named it the  _ Buttfuck Shuffle _ . 

“You don’t think it’s a little weird, you thinking about what they’re doing together?” Peter whispered quietly while Tony ran the coffee grinder. 

“I don’t have to guess, I can fucking hear it sometimes,” Harley shuddered. “Y’know my room shares an air duct with theirs? My ears will  _ never _ recover after last night.” 

“You might want to invest in some earplugs,” Nat suggested lightly, before grabbing her coffee mug and migrating towards her best friend. While Stephen busied himself checking out the contents of the fridge, she managed to capture Tony’s attention as he started the coffee maker. “If the goal of last night was to injure yourselves I’d say you nailed it.” 

“Oh I nailed it,” Tony said casually, “Three… no, four times last night. And once more this morning.”

“You’re insatiable,” she smacked his shoulder. “And you haven’t told him, I’m guessing?” 

He shrugged, tapping the coffee maker. Somehow he’d hoped that would make it brew faster. 

“Can’t talk if you’re too busy suckin -”

“DADDY!” He turned around to see Morgan running at him full speed. She embraced his waist tightly, and he ruffled her hair as she buried her face into his bathrobe. “I’m so happy you’re alive!”

“Uh, me too, pumpkin. What -” He looked up for explanation, when Bruce walked in holding James. 

“We were watching the cartoon,” Bruce gave Nat a kiss on the cheek. He meant the cartoon that had started airing called  _ The Avengers _ . Tony hated it - they always depicted him as some sort of callous sarcastic twat. Maybe that’s why Bruce loved it. “I can’t believe they killed you off in a kids show, man. Seems a bit traumatic.”

“They’ve killed me off twice and brought me back both times, I wouldn’t be too concerned,” He patted Morgan’s back consolingly, “I’m here, honey.” 

“I know, but just in case,” she looked up at him, her big brown eyes brimming with confused tears. His heart melted, but the touching moment was interrupted by Bruce.

“Did you guys sleep alright? You look like you got hit by a freight train.” 

“ _ DON’T _ !” Came Harley’s reply from the table. Nat grinned. 

* * *

Peace at last. Stephen had spent most of the day in Hong Kong and had only just gotten back to the Sanctum Sanctorum. He was looking forward to a nice long bath and hopefully an hour or two of meditation. He needed so badly to relax. 

It didn’t help that every time he went to see Tony he got jumped. It didn’t matter who was there or what time of day it was, Tony was  _ relentless _ . If Stephen had been out in high school he imagined that’s what it must be like. He wasn’t even sure how Tony was able to have such a short refractory period. Maybe he was still getting juice from the arc reactor. Maybe he was taking Viagra. Stephen didn’t know, and he didn’t care much - but he was tired. 

“ _ There _ you are! I’ve been waiting for you all day,” Stephen looked up to see his least favorite apprentice. 

“Brian?” He looked different. He’d filled out a little, looked a little less gangly than the last time Stephen had seen him. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the Kamar-Taj?” 

“Master Chen sent me to discuss the new apprentices,” he smiled. He followed Stephen down the hallway. 

“Discuss exactly what?” Stephen pushed the door to his study open. He usually locked it, he must have forgotten to before he left. Shrugging that off, he stepped aside to let Brian in. 

“New vetting procedures!” 

Stephen tried not to audibly sigh. He’d discussed this before with Master Chen - they had to find a new way to bring in new apprentices, mostly to avoid bringing in people like Brian. Unfortunately, Brian took that as a signal that he should head up that operation because he knew  _ exactly _ what they weren’t looking for. Master Chen couldn’t convince him otherwise, so Stephen surmised that is exactly why Brian was sent to him. 

In another life, Brian probably could have been a decent used car salesman. He rattled off his ideas excitedly and Stephen made a mental note to get back at Master Chen for this. Brian paced around Stephen’s study while Stephen sank into the chair behind his desk. He’d been in his seat for approximately thirty seconds before he felt someone unzipping the fly in his pants. 

Tony was crammed underneath Stephen’s desk. He pressed a finger to his lips and Stephen wanted to be angry, he really did, but after the last week he should hardly have been surprised. Of  _ course _ Tony was underneath his desk on a random Tuesday. 

“Hold on, I forgot I made a flowchart for you to look at -” Brian turned and left the room before Stephen could protest. He took the opportunity to address his horny boyfriend. 

“ _ What do you think you’re doing _ ?” He glared at the stubborn engineer.

“I missed you, I wanted to see you,” Tony bit his bottom lip and rubbed Stephen’s leg consolingly. 

“Not like this, no you don’t -”

“Found it!” Brian unfolded a tripod stand and plopped a giant pad of paper on it. He had painstakingly written out several pages. Looked like Stephen was going to be here for a while. “See, if you look here, we need to stop reaching out to  _ these _ areas…” 

Fuck. Tony was palming his length through his briefs. He could feel himself hardening, reacting to the familiarity of Tony’s touch. What the fuck was  _ with _ Tony lately? Stephen couldn’t get a moment’s rest and  _ oh _ that was Tony’s mouth wrapping around the head of his cock. He grunted, causing Brian to pause. 

“What’s that, Doctor Strange?” Brian smiled eerily, waiting. Stephen waved him off. 

“Nothing, please continue,” Stephen strained to smile back. He tried his hardest to maintain the facade of paying attention, but it was difficult as all of the blood that was supposed to be circulating around his brain went squarely to his cock. Tony’s tongue was doing wonderful things to his length and he had to pretend to write things down as Brian spoke in order to focus. 

Tony was being quiet - he took his time lavishing Stephen’s cock, alternating between using his mouth and his hands. His favorite moments were when Brian prompted Stephen for a response and all Stephen could manage was a  _ hmph _ or a  _ I suppose you’re right _ . He knew Stephen was close when his leg began to shake uncontrollably. He went in for the kill. 

“Brian…” Stephen said shakily, “Do you think we could reconvene another time? I don’t think I-”

“Are you alright, Doctor Strange? You look feverish,” Brian walked over in an attempt to feel the sorcerer’s forehead but was thrown back by a quick display of magic. 

“Sorry, sorry - didn’t mean to… I’m fine, but could you come back another time?” Stephen’s voice was steadily rising in pitch as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I’m just in the middle of something um, personal…” 

“Is it Tony Stark, sir?” Brian nodded sympathetically. He didn’t have the best encounters with Tony, and he certainly didn’t need to know where Tony was right now, so Stephen let out a laugh. 

“No, no -” he almost jumped out of his seat as Tony did that thing with his tongue that Stephen  _ really _ liked, “It’s a uh, me problem.” 

“Very well,” Brian gathered his presentation, almost out the door when he turned, “Is there another time you’d like to plan for me to come back, or is this a you call me type of thing -”

“ _ GET OUT _ ,” Stephen gave a strangled cry and booted Brian out with assistance from the cloak. As soon as the door slammed shut he spilled into Tony’s waiting mouth. 

Without so much as a kiss on the lips, Tony swiftly left the Sanctum. Stephen was puzzled. Part of him was grateful for a midday blowie but ultimately he was confused. When he asked Tony why he showed up in the Sanctum in the first place, Tony avoided giving him a direct answer. Regardless of Tony’s intentions, one thing was clear. 

Stephen was going to get him back for this.


	13. Slow Grenade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony speaks to his therapist. News about Pepper and Happy. Stephen is annoying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _You say my name like you know my dark side  
>  Slow grenade it's blowing up my mistakes  
> So why don't I stop it?  
> It's like a part of me must want it  
> That's why I'm not running from it  
> Can't escape this blowing up in my face  
> Why can't I stop it?  
> _  
> -Ellie Goulding (feat. Lauv)

“Just _tell_ him.”

The words Tony’s therapist were saying rebounded in his eardrums as he zoned out. His mind was in a million places and nowhere at once, and he wasn’t entirely convinced he had _actually_ made this appointment, so much as Nat had hacked into his daily scheduler and called the good doctor. 

To be truthful, the guilt had been seeping through his skin for the past week and he didn’t know how he was going to face Stephen. Every time he looked at his face he saw Victor, he saw Beverly. He saw Donna and Eugene. He distracted himself with Phase III and frankly, Stephen was too busy to notice either. 

“Barring all of the illegalities, which you pay me enough to ignore, I think we have to talk about what really happened here,” Dr. Kline leaned forward in his chair, his glasses dangling haphazardly out of his collared shirt. “You _didn’t trust_ Stephen, so you went behind his back. Why did you do that? The rational thing to do would have been to wait.” 

Tony groaned. Everything is rational in hindsight. He felt like a child being lectured for late schoolwork. “If Stephen wasn’t going to tell me, I had to find out for myself,” Tony humphed and crossed his arms stubbornly. “I mean, his mother even said so. He’s always been stubborn.” 

“And that’s comforting to you?” 

“No,” Tony said slowly. “I mean… whatever.” 

“So after you learn everything he’s been hiding, do you still want to marry him?”

“Of course I do,” Tony sat up. “I’d marry him in a second!”

“And you think he’d say yes, even after he finds out you violated his trust?” 

“I didn’t _violate_ anything, I didn’t find anything you couldn’t find on the internet.”

“I guarantee you used more than the internet,” Dr. Kline frowned. “Your mental gymnastics are staggering.” 

“What am I supposed to say? Sorry I found out things he should have told me?” Flustered, Tony unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt. It was getting too hot in the doctor’s stuffy office. He felt like he was on fuckin trial. “ _He_ ’s the one who isn’t being forthcoming. I’m a fuckin open book.” 

“Except for this.” 

“Except for… well, tell me what to say Doc, because I’m at a loss here,” it had gotten to the point in the conversation when Tony simply shut off. He was being deliberately obstinate and Dr. Kline knew it. 

“The sooner you tell Stephen about your transgressions, the better you will feel,” with a sigh, Dr. Kline closed his notebook and stood. Tony shook his hand and headed for the door. 

He knew his therapist was right, he’d been right about everything so far. Finding a time to sit down with Stephen and have a _real talk_ was proving to be increasingly difficult. Bruce and Nat were still staying with him at the tower, Peter and Harley were always lurking nearby, and he had the kids every couple of days. The tables had completely turned and now Stephen was the one creeping into Tony’s bed late at night after working all day. 

He couldn’t do it tonight, anyway. They had dinner plans that they couldn’t miss. Pepper and Happy had gotten engaged and he had promised to take them out to dinner to celebrate. He could care less about Happy, but he just wanted to show up for Pepper. He was going over potential conversation starters when he got a text from Stephen. 

**STRANGE** : Are you ready?

Tony smirked as he got into his Audi.

He wasn’t in the slightest. 

\---

He felt the window of opportunity to enact the next part of Phase III swiftly closing. Stephen arrived at Stark Tower with minutes to spare, hardly apologetic, and Tony tried not to take it personally. He knew Stephen was busy but this was a fucking important dinner. 

It was important to him that they appear cheerful, calm, and collected no matter how they _actually_ felt. Pepper looked so happy when she picked up the kids, she was positively glowing. If Tony didn’t know her age, he would have thought maybe she was pregnant again. But James was a goddamn biological miracle already. He hoped she didn’t have any of Happy’s spawn cooking in the oven... 

“Is that really what you’re wearing?” Stephen’s voice shook him from imagining what Pepper and Happy do in private. 

“What, you don’t like pinstripe?” Tony twirled in the mirror. He had to admit he looked a little… colorful. It was a grey suit with pink and red pinstripes. Armani, even. 

“You look like Willy Wonka,” Stephen reached out to feel the fabric and shrugged, “It’ll be good to hide stains, though.” 

“Why would I get it stained?” 

“Please, I’ve seen you eat,” Stephen fixed his tie in the mirror. “Your napkin is always filthy.” 

“It’s a _napkin_ , that’s what it’s for,” Tony pouted, second guessing his choice. Too late now. After they kissed the kids good-bye, he followed Stephen into the hallway. Once they were out of sight, Stephen created a portal. Tony took a deep breath as he stepped in front of Pepper’s building. He used to stay with her more often but now that the kids were older and James was sleeping through the night, he didn’t need to. He shouldn’t have been so surprised that she and Happy were an item. He practically set them up. 

“Don’t mention the IBM deal or -” Stephen started, but Tony pushed past him and waved him off.

“Toni Colette, I know, I know. Geez, I’m the one who was married to her,” he swung open the double doors to the lobby and marched towards the penthouse elevator. His annoyance was increasing as they got closer and it didn’t just have to do with Happy stealing Pepper. (Or tricking her or whatever he did to convince her he was a suitable replacement for Tony.) Either way, it was undeniable that Stephen was being straight up _irritating_. 

He swooped into the evening like he owned Stark Tower, was being prissy and dismissive and it was putting Tony on edge. What the hell did Stephen have to be so cocky about? It didn’t help that he was in an impossibly good mood while Tony teetered on the verge of being downright sour. He fucking whistled a tune in the bathroom. The audacity. 

Pepper greeted them at the door with glasses of champagne. 

“We already opened it, sorry. I know you love to, but we couldn’t wait,” she gave Tony a kiss on the cheek. She was probably remembering that time Tony tried to open a bottle with a machete and while he was confident it could be accomplished with simple physics, the scars on his hand didn’t corroborate that story. 

Stephen dug into his suave and debonair persona that he always donned around Pepper. He was laughing with Pepper like they were both members at the same country club and Tony and Happy were just _there_. The more Tony thought about it the more annoyed he got. He and Stephen had been dating for years more than Pepper and Happy. It didn’t make sense. Now they were engaged, he and Stephen weren’t, and she was going to beat him to the altar. Not that it was a competition. But if it was a competition, Happy would have been disqualified. 

“So how did you do it?” Stephen asked, his eyes sparkling. Tony was disgusted. “Who asked who?” 

Pepper beamed. “Happy asked me, but not in the conventional way,” she smiled and took Happy’s hand and kissed it. She looked into his eyes while she delved into the story. “We were at work and one of the interns, I think Rebecca, called me into the security room - said I had to look at something. Well, I was looking at the screens and one by one, they went black. I was like, ‘fuck, I have to call Happy’! So I did, and he didn’t answer. I was so worried I almost hit the alarm button. But, I didn’t have to because the screens showed back up, and they spelled out - well, go on honey.”

“They said, ‘Pepper will you marry me?’” Happy finished for her. He looked pleased as punch. “And I was standing outside of the security room.” 

“With a bouquet of calla lilies!” Her favorite. Pepper’s happiness was palpable. “Of course I said yes. And we have the whole thing recorded on CCTV.” 

Tony gagged. He did notice the absence of a rock on Pepper’s finger. She never liked to wear the one Tony bought her, anyway. Something about it being irritating while she worked. Either she didn’t care enough or Happy couldn’t afford one. He was glad Stephen was gobbling the story up because he couldn’t gather an ounce of enthusiasm, even if he still did love Pepper. 

“Celebrations call for a cigar. Who wants one?” He whipped out a velvet lined box with cigars. 

“Gurkha Grand Reserve! Nice,” Happy picked one up and sniffed it. “Dominican.” 

“Louis XIII, only the best for you, buddy,” Tony offered one to Pepper and Stephen but they both declined. Stephen’s excuse was always that he liked his lungs. Unperturbed, Tony stuffed it in his mouth and aimed to light up. “Shall we?” 

“No! Don’t you dare!” Pepper flipped the lighter shut and waved frantically at her ex-husband. “Go out on the balcony!”

“But it’s celebratory -” Tony protested, but she shoved him. 

“It smells like _asshole_ -”

Happy frowned and turned to Stephen. “I’m surprised you don’t like it.”

Before Stephen could react properly, Pepper pushed them towards the door leading outside. Reluctantly, the two men stumbled outside. 

  
  


“Just the two of us, then,” Stephen remarked, clinking his glass against Pepper’s. “Congratulations, Pepper. We’re so happy for you both.” 

“Thank you! I’m happy. _We’re_ happy.” She grinned and topped off their glasses with more champagne. 

“Set the date yet?”

“No, there’s no rush really. Tony and I had such a big thing, we want this to be quiet. Intimate,” She paused. She hadn’t realized how weird it would be to talk to Stephen about her marriage to Tony, as they’d been incredibly careful avoiding the topic before. 

“I understand completely,” He said seriously, and she felt a wave of relief. 

“What about you two? Have you talked about getting hitched?” 

“Um, briefly,” Stephen swallowed the entirety of his champagne. He didn’t know where this nervous energy was coming from but it bubbled to the surface before he could quelch it. “He asked me, once.” 

“Sorry?” Pepper hiccuped into her glass. “He did what?” 

“He asked me to marry him,” Stephen glanced out onto the balcony, watching Tony speak with Happy. They appeared to be in a very serious conversation. 

“What did you say?” 

“I didn’t give him an answer,” Stephen said without looking at her. He felt he had dragged the conversation down and the awkwardness he felt earlier had increased tenfold. “How did you know that he was the one?”

He was sure she understood he meant Happy, not Tony. From what he understood of Tony and Pepper’s proposal, she kind of got strong armed into saying yes in front of a bunch of reporters. 

“Happy’s been with me for so many years it’s kind of hard to imagine life without him,” she smiled, looking fondly at her fiance. “He makes me laugh. He’s amazing with the kids. And he’s present, you know? I mean, he’s proven over and over again that he would do anything for me. I just hope I can return the favor.”

Stephen was shocked at her confession. If he knew anything about Pepper, it was that she was staunchly selfless. He was saddened to think she thought she was anything but a remarkable partner. If there were problems in her relationship with Happy, he was confident it wouldn’t be her fault. 

“His job’s dangerous. Are you worried about that?”

Pepper laughed softly. “Compared to Tony, worrying about Happy is peanuts. He’s going to take a step back, of course. We’re hiring a new body guard for the family. And the best thing is, I don’t have to worry he’s gonna go off and kill himself.” 

She wanted to retract her statement the minute she saw Stephen’s face. His expression was grave. 

“I mean, get himself killed. Tony has some sort of savior complex he’s always dealing with,” it was almost a save. “But you both have dangerous jobs… is that what you’re concerned about? That one of you won’t make it home?” 

Stephen didn’t answer. She set down her glass of champagne and Stephen suddenly felt like he was talking to CEO Pepper, not giddy-just-engaged Pepper. 

“I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but Tony is well aware that being in a relationship is a choice. You choose that person every single day and if you wake up one day and decide he’s not the one, I’ll tell you from first hand experience - it’s super shitty to find out after the fact,” she squeezed his arm, and stole a glance outside. Tony had shoved Happy and it looked like they were yelling, their cigars dangling precariously in clenched fists. She grimaced. “We should go out there. Looks like they’re going to kill each other.”

Stephen agreed, and followed her out to the balcony without another word. He took what she said to heart. He wasn’t ever questioning his love for Tony, or Tony’s love for him. But he was doubting the fairness of it all - was it fair to get attached when he couldn’t even guarantee he would be alive tomorrow? Tony had pretty much entirely stepped back from active duty with the Avengers. Stephen couldn’t agree to do the same, and wouldn’t do so for years to come. His job was too important. Lives were at stake. And Tony had people to take care of. Had children. Had mentees. Stephen felt like a fly on the wall of Tony’s weird life. 

His spiraling was disrupted by the scene on the balcony. Tony was in battle stance, the gauntlet to his suit activated in his right hand. Happy was holding his hands in front of his face, waiting for Tony to strike. Pepper was exasperated. 

“Tony, _all I said_ was that you don’t need a _third eye_ to see that yours and Pepper’s relationship was going down the toilet!” Happy said loudly. 

“Everyone has a third eye!” Tony shouted. 

“ _That’s not the point_!”

“HEY,” Pepper interjected. “Cut it out, please? Can we just go to dinner like normal fucking people?” 

Stephen wandered over to Tony’s side, encouraging him to stand down. 

“He said _I_ was the problem,” Tony said bitterly. “Can you believe that guy? Like he has a fucking say…”

“Let’s just go to dinner, alright?” Stephen said consolingly, giving Tony a kiss on the cheek. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” 

Tony was in such a bad mood when he hopped into the Lincoln that Stephen almost felt bad about his plans for dinner. 

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stephen exacts his revenge for Tony's 'attack' at the Sanctum next chapter. And then...


	14. Down in Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen decides Tony needs to be taken down a notch. Tony lets the cat out of the bag. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Slippin' off the edge, out of phase  
>  Watchin' you pretend we're okay  
> If we're going down,  
> We're going down in flames  
> _  
> \- Ella Vos

“Kiss my shiny ass,” Tony said loudly over the others. “I saved your butts and _you know it_.” 

Stephen smirked into his drink. Dinner had barely started and Tony was already stroking his own ego. They were telling the story about the Mandarin to Stephen, and while he’d gotten the full (and correct) story from Rhodey years ago, he enjoyed the back and forth. 

“I’m sorry, where were you, Hogan?” Happy rolled his eyes. “Oh that’s right! You were in a coma.” 

Pepper faux-clapped her hands, in awe of her ex husband, and waited for Tony to stop bragging before she added her two cents. 

“And who saved _your_ ass, Tony? Y’know, right before Killian tried to kill you for the umpteenth time?” She said smugly. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“You, dear,” He muttered, accepting defeat. 

“That’s right. So let it be known in the face of certain death by genetically modified freakshows, I, Pepper Potts, saved Tony Stark,” She raised her glass and everyone, Tony reluctantly, raised their glasses to her. 

Other than Tony starting the evening with a stick up his ass, the dinner was going smoothly. Happy and Tony agreed in the car ride over to let bygones be bygones, and they wouldn’t criticize each other’s relationships any longer. Tony hated to admit it, but Happy was absolutely one of his best friends before he sided with Pepper in the divorce. Happy knew everything about Tony - and while Tony knew less about Happy, he was still grateful for his ever listening ear. 

Stephen had played moderator earlier in the evening, but now that the liquor was flowing, the conversation was more playful and relaxed. They laughed about whatever the kids were doing, what gossip they heard about other Avengers. Pepper and Happy shared horrifically mundane work stories, but Tony and Stephen laughed along just the same. It was positively delightful until the entrees arrived. 

It started with a tickle on his calf. Tony shook his leg. Maybe he’d had too much to drink. He’d taken one bite of his meal when he felt it - the unmistakable feel of a hand trailing up his leg. His first reaction was to glare at Stephen, but the man was sitting across from him at a rather wide table. Was Pepper feeling frisky?

Nope. She had one hand covering her mouth while she laughed, the other dangling a fork mid-bite. Tony slowly turned to her fiance, but Happy had both elbows on the table, laughing at Stephen’s joke or something. He peeked underneath the table, inspecting his own legs, but saw absolutely nothing. So he was imagining things, clearly. But the invisible hand crept further. He felt it tracing circles up his thigh and he didn’t react fearing he’d finally gone fucking insane. He was at a perfectly normal dinner and was being felt up by a ghost. 

“But anyway, when we tried to get Morgan into the Meadowside preschool, they actually told us she was _too advanced_ and we weren’t eligible! Couldn’t believe it,” Pepper was saying. Tony smiled stiffly as he felt another hand making its way up his leg. “Luckily, the elementary school had an opening and we just went there instead. What was it the teacher said, Tony, on Morgan’s first day?”

Tony coughed. “Something about her being in top percentile for any kid ever…?”

Pepper’s eyes lit up as she remembered other tidbits she wanted to say and Tony let her run with it. Something was massaging his balls and another hand was trying to stroke his member to life. Covering his mouth with his own hand wasn’t enough to keep the sounds escaping. He coughed into his napkin again. Pepper was the first to notice. 

“Are you alright? Was the _cacio e pepe_ too spicy?” 

“No, no it’s fine -” He took a sip of his water as the hand got insistent, and Tony was struggling with a full-mast boner in the middle of dinner. Each stroke was perfectly executed and he felt tears form in his eyes as the feelings ebbed and flowed.

He tried to enjoy his entree but the pressure on his cock was almost too much to endure. Every time he lifted a forkful to his mouth he’d feel his cock being pumped, and the pleasure was distracting when he tried to swallow food. A couple of minutes passed while everyone quietly ate their food, but Tony’s attention was brought back to the table when he heard his name. 

“...Tony?” Pepper’s voice lingered, and he couldn’t recall anything she had just said. 

“Hmm?”

“How did you convince Senator Robbins to bypass the escrow on the National Conservation Trust in his father’s name?” Pepper was looking at him, quizzically. When he didn’t respond immediately, she turned to Stephen and reassured him. “It’s a really great story, I promise.” 

“Yes, Tony. Tell us,” Stephen casually took a sip of his wine. 

“Oh _god_ ,” Tony felt a tongue feeling at his rim and he was struggling to stay seated. Kisses from unseen mouths were being planted on his body and he had difficulty keeping track. His nipples were being stimulated, his neck felt like it was on fire, and he could’ve sworn someone’s lips were sucking on the tender skin behind his ears. “It’s a… funny story....” 

It didn’t help that Pepper, Happy, and Stephen were looking at him, rapt with attention, and he was barely stuttering out a story he’d told a million times. If this was any other occasion he would have been happy to reiterate how he basically blackmailed the senator but he was too stupid to know any better. 

But instead, he was trying to regulate his breaths as he felt his asshole being expanded. It felt like one finger, and then two. It alternated between mere insertion and scissoring action and he actively broke out into a sweat when he felt a third finger work its way in. He told as much of the story as he could, and then let Pepper take over the conversation. No one seemed to notice that Tony wasn’t dominating everything. No one seemed to notice that Tony was trying hard as he could to stare at his empty wine glass. 

“Are you okay, darling? You look a bit… peaky,” he could hear Stephen’s voice say. He focused briefly on the man sitting across from him and he couldn’t help but notice his lip curl to a grin. All of a sudden the night’s events started to make sense. Stephen being cocky. Tony getting a handjob from a ghost. A wink from the wizard told him all he needed to know. 

“You’re right, I think I need to… excuse myself,” Tony did his best to tuck away his raging erection and escaped to the bathroom. It was difficult to walk, but people probably thought he was drunk anyway. He was less than pleased to see an attendant in the bathroom. 

“Good evening, Mr. Stark,” The attendant smiled. He shoved a one hundred dollar bill in his direction.

“Get out, now,” he barked. The attendant left quickly and Tony shuffled to a stall door. The sensations had lessened as he walked into the bathroom but his cock was still standing at attention. He wondered what the _fuck_ Stephen had done to him, and he was all riled up at the lack of completion. He’d made his mind up already. He was going to jerk off in the bathroom stall like a fucking teenaged boy. There was no other way. 

Taking a deep breath, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his straining erection. He was too busy looking for release that he didn’t even notice his hand had zero effect on his cock. Every time he tried to grab it his hand was stopped by an invisible force and he couldn’t even get within an inch of it. He just needed some friction, anything. Desperately, he turned around and tried to rub himself on the stall door - nothing. 

_What the fuck_. He flailed around the bathroom stall for a couple of more minutes before he had to admit that Stephen got him. He was hopelessly turned on and he was tempted to ask the attendant to come back to finish the job. The feelings had stopped since he entered the bathroom. He wondered if it was a proximity spell. Maybe he had to be close to Stephen, or within eyesight?

He didn’t know, but he entertained his options. He could stay in the bathroom for a couple of hours. He could be asked to be seated elsewhere for the rest of his meal. He could call Wong, pay the Sanctum’s property taxes for the next millenia so Stephen could go off and have an “emergency” somewhere. Or, he could strut back out there and pretend absolutely nothing was the matter while Stephen did his worst. 

Exiting the stall, he examined himself in the mirror. He was disheveled, and quite frankly, he looked thoroughly fucked. His cheeks were rosy, his skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and his hair didn’t look too hot, either. Is this what Stephen was talking about when he said his suit would handle _stains_? Motherfucker. 

  
\---

“Are you okay?” Stephen asked, his eyes twinkling. Tony took his seat back at the table with a grunt, not looking at the mischievous sorcerer. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“We ordered dessert while you were gone,” Pepper chirped. “Are you gassy? I think I have some lactose enzymes in my purse.” 

She dove into her bag before Tony could protest. 

“Why do you even carry Lactaid?” Happy sighed. “You’re not lactose intolerant.” 

Pepper looked as if he’d stabbed a puppy to death. “Tony’s lactose intolerant, and I think James is too,” she said defensively. “At any rate, it’s a small price to pay for what would happen later.” 

“Thank you,” Stephen clinked her glass, and she fished out a pill packet and placed it in front of Tony’s plate. 

Tony thanked her and washed the pill down with a sip of scotch. He rested his elbow casually on the table and smiled at Stephen. It didn’t matter if he’d barely touched his entree, or if there was zero lactose in the _parmigiano-reggiano_ in his dish. All that mattered was she had blessed Tony with a way out, and this was war. 

Tony didn’t flinch when dessert was served. The ghost hands were gently playing with him, teasing his testicles, brushing his shaft - but as soon as the semifreddo was placed in front of him, he felt the gentle poke of a smooth head begging entrance to his hole. He took one bite and savored it - it was probably the only bite he would be able to remember. 

The cock breached him as the waitstaff brought a round of espressos by the table. Stephen had ordered a vegan affogato in lieu of semifreddo and watched Tony out of the corner of his eyes. Tony had flagged down one of the servers and was trying to engage in a slurred conversation in Italian. They might think he was drunk. They would never know he was dividing his energy in remaining present at the table and focusing on the cock working its way into his asshole. 

“Isn’t it good??” Pepper exclaimed. She closed her eyes and chewed on her dessert with intent. 

“ _So good,_ ” Tony agreed, as he felt the cock pull out and push in again. He tried not to let out a low moan as the cock became fully seated. He didn’t know how it was physically possible his hips weren’t moving with the force the ghost thrusts were pushing into him. He ate his dessert in small bites, taking the occasional sip from the shortest espresso he had ever seen. He could get through this. He just needed to manage his time, finish his dessert before the pleasure became too great…

“I think this calls for a round of port,” Stephen suggested, holding up a menu to look over the options. “What’s your poison, Happy? Pick anything you like.” 

Stephen winked at Tony and Tony could have killed him if he wasn’t in the middle of being pounded. He struggled to lift the fork up to his mouth. Every time the cock slid into him it brushed up against his prostate in a manner that was most definitely ethereal. The head moved in multiple directions, seeming to scoop his insides and he honestly couldn’t remember a more exquisite feeling. Whatever this was, he wanted it all of the time. Just maybe not in front of his ex wife, or in public… 

By the time the port arrived, Tony was essentially mute. He’d taken to laying his head down on the table and he didn’t care if Pepper thought he was wasted. He listened to the useless chatter around the table as the cock pumped into him relentlessly. He was on the verge of orgasm but something told him Stephen’s magic wouldn’t let him cum anyway. He was at Stephen’s mercy, and the rational part of his brain just wanted to scream UNCLE and let Stephen know he had won. His eyes had dripped involuntary tears into the tablecloth and his cock had streamed precum onto his colorful pants. He was beyond caring if the stains held or not. He’d cum all over the dinner table if Stephen would let him. 

“Let’s take a picture!” Pepper stood and waved over a server, and Tony thought he was going to die. “We have to commemorate this evening.” 

Tony didn’t move until Stephen called him over. 

“Come stand next to me, darling,” he drawled, and Tony heavily considered enacting his suit and marching out of the restaurant. He finally moved when Pepper egged him on, and he used his sleeve to dab at the perspiration on his brow. 

“Wow, you really look like shit,” Pepper acknowledged as he took his place by Stephen’s side. 

“Hope someone knows photoshop,” he managed to say as the server started to take pictures. Stephen wrapped his arms around his waist and leaned to whisper into his ear. 

“ _Never fuck with me at the Sanctum again_ ,” Stephen practically licked his ear and he whimpered. “You may come now.”

It didn’t matter that the waiter was still taking pictures, or that Tony was awkwardly squatting next to Stephen, or that he could feel Pepper’s arm on his, or that Happy was standing on his other side - Tony came as the waiter said ‘ _cheese_ ’. 

  
  


* * *

“I have something to tell you,” Tony curled up with his pillow and faced Stephen. They’d just finished a particularly… _rigorous_ session of lovemaking and his therapist’s words were eating at his subconscious as they lay in his candle lit bedroom. He couldn’t wait anymore. There was nothing to hide.

“You mean besides the fact I fucking owned your ass at the restaurant tonight?” Stephen stretched and slowly faced Tony. He noticed Tony’s serious face. “Oh… what is it?”

“I’m sorry for my erratic behavior lately,” Tony averted his gaze and stared at an arbitrary point below Stephen’s armpit. “I’m just… I’m trying to get my head screwed on right and after you left the last time, I just kind of fucking lost it, and I’m not proud, I don’t know why I did it, I know I shouldn’t have, I’m a fucking idiot -”

“Will you stop rambling? Tell me,” Stephen rolled over to look at Tony directly. He couldn’t imagine where Tony was going with this. Drinking? Gambling? Infidelity? 

“I know I have glaring boundary issues, I’m working on it with my therapist I promise,” Tony looked so forlorn Stephen wanted to reach out and pet his head. “I’m so sorry, Stephen, in advance...” 

“Tony…” 

“I looked up your mother,” Tony said quietly. Stephen froze.

“You did what?”

“And your brother,” Tony barely whispered. “He’s alive. Or he was as of two weeks ago.” 

Stephen sat in silence, stunned. 

“That’s not all,” he wanted to crawl into a deep, dark, hole and never return. He could see Stephen’s exterior deflating with every word he spoke. “I met them.” 

“You _what_?” 

“I went to Cheshire and I met Beverly,” Tony said resolutely. “Your brother lives in Jersey City, I…”

“I _know where he lives_ ,” Stephen spat. “What the _fucking_ fuck.” 

Stephen sat up on the bed, taking his head into his hands. Tony grimaced for his reaction. 

“What the _fuck_ where you thinking?” Stephen stood. “What in the everloving _fuck_ -” 

“I had to know!” Tony said, jumping up to console him. Stephen swatted at his hand as Tony reached out to him. “I just needed to know -”

“It’s not your business to know!” Stephen roared, looking at Tony with such hatred Tony felt his resolve crumble. “What _good_ came from that, hmm? Did you have fun? Did you have a fucking tea party?” 

“I did, actually -”

“ _Why_?”

“She told me about Donna!” Tony shouted. “I know… I know what happened!” 

Stephen gritted his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair. He took a deep breath, deciding his next words very carefully. 

“You should have trusted me, Tony, nothing good-”

“ _How could I trust you_?” Tony cried, flustered. “You never told me anything!”  
  
“Some things are not for you to know!” Stephen got in his face then, his spittle flying. “I carry my secrets, my family’s secrets - you carry yours. I don’t _ask_ you yours. Why would you go behind my back?” 

“Fuck, Stephen. Honey, I was wrong,” Tony faltered. 

“I was wrong, too,” Stephen said quietly, gathering his clothes off of Tony’s bedroom floor. 

“For what?” 

“For trusting you.” 

Stephen silently collected his sling ring from the bedside table. Tony felt tears pool in his eyes as he watched Stephen turn towards the bedroom door. An orange light illuminated the hallway and Tony just… let him go. 

Fuck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooh


	15. Love Me Less

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen gets a visitor at the Sanctum. Harley and Peter try to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Would you love me less?  
>  If you knew the places that I've been  
> If you knew the damage that I did  
> Would you love me less?  
> I've got too much dirt to come clean  
> Closets full of skeletons that you don't wanna see  
> Will you judge me, all my ugly  
> I won't blame you if you do  
> _  
> \- MAX (feat. Quinn XCII)

“ _ HE’S LYING, ELIZABETH!” _ Stephen threw a handful of popcorn at the screen as he watched Mr. Darcy walk away. This was his third time watching through  _ Pride and Prejudice _ and he couldn’t help but side with the headstrong heroine. It was just one of the several films he had locked himself in his study with. He didn’t really know why the only DVDs he possessed were romance movies that made him sob uncontrollably. Unhealthy behavior? Maybe. But it made him feel nominally better. 

Days had passed since he left the Tower. He’d almost thrown his phone in the river but after a second’s thought, he realized that was a thousand dollar item he wouldn’t be able to replace. He turned it off instead. He didn’t want to hear from Tony, didn’t want Nat or Pepper calling him once they’d heard what happened. He needed time to think. 

He tried to work, at first. But he was becoming increasingly distracted and Wong got pissed at him. Stephen didn’t need to be admonished in front of the apprentices to realize he wasn’t entirely present. Before Wong could ask him to, he locked himself in his study. He didn’t need to hear anything about the outside world, didn’t need to hear about anything Tony might be up to. He just wanted peace, quiet, and the comfort of his movie collection. 

“Knock knock,” a familiar female voice said. Stephen looked over to the door to see Christine Palmer walking over to him with a chilled bottle of wine and two glasses. “Thought you might want some company.” 

He scooted over to make room for her on the antique couch. “What made you think that?” 

“Well, a little birdie told me there was trouble in paradise,” she smirked and sat beside him. He wasn’t sure if that was a euphemism for Tony’s activity on Twitter or if someone had  _ actually _ contacted her. “And you didn’t answer any of my phone calls or texts.” 

Typical. She always took radio silence on his end to imply that he was in some sort of  _ mood _ , and in the past few years, it was almost always because of something Tony had said or done. He didn’t know when he’d gotten to be so predictable. 

She poured generous portions into their wine glasses, taking a sip as she handed Stephen his. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No,” he said decisively, and turned up the volume on the tv. 

Two movies and two bottles of wine later, Stephen was feeling better. Christine sat with him through  _ Notting Hill _ and  _ Love, Actually _ and he found it more difficult to cry when she was around. Maybe it was a remnant of his stoic masculinity he tried to maintain when they were dating, or maybe he just felt less pitiful with another human being in the room. It didn’t matter. Her presence helped. 

“Empty, again?” Christine sighed. “That’s all I brought.” 

“Not to worry,” Stephen smiled and with a wave of his hand, the bottle refilled itself. Christine gasped and smacked him. 

“What the fuck was that? Why didn’t you do that the first time??” She poured herself a new glass and smelled the bouquet. It certainly would do. 

“You can’t conjure things that don’t exist,” Stephen explained simply. “I didn’t do it earlier because now someone, somewhere in the universe is missing 750 milliters of an  _ excellent _ Chardonnay.” 

Christine cackled and he held out his glass for another pour. She gladly obliged.

“God, I would kill for a smoke,” she pouted and looked at him through the corner of her eye. “Would be a shame if someone, somewhere in the universe missed out on a pack of Marlboros…”

“Already got you covered,” Stephen strode over to his desk and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He could lie to her and tell her that he’d just gotten it, but the truth was he’d confiscated it from Tony weeks ago. “I don’t know how fresh it is…” 

Christine eyed the cellophane-wrapped package and shrugged. 

“Good enough for me. Courtyard?” 

When they lit up Christine was the first to cough. 

“Fuck me I forgot how terrible this is,” she said, wheezing. “But so good.” 

“Yes, why did we ever stop?” Stephen inhaled deeply, enjoying the tickle down his throat. 

“Lung cancer?” Christine paused, then burst into laughter. He laughed too, only to hear an apprentice open a window and holler at them to shut up. They stood quietly, surrounded by smoke in the tepid summer air. Christine shuffled her feet in between drags of the cigarette. “You should talk to him, you know? You can’t fix it if you’re not  _ there _ .”

He didn’t respond immediately. What Tony did to him was unforgivable. After everything they’d been through - from that goddamn spaceship when they were chasing after Thanos, to Stephen hurling himself at the Vikhura, to dealing with the recovery - how could Tony not trust him? He knew Tony had the patience of a toddler, which was offensive to James, but it was really hard to justify his actions. 

Stephen debated on reaching out to his brother. He’d kept tabs on Victor ever since he became Sorcerer Supreme. He visited, once. They had a short conversation - catching up on where Victor had been since he was released from juvenile detention. He’d moved around the country, not staying too long as his convictions caught up with him. Eventually he found a sleazy landlord who would rent to him, and that’s how he ended up in New Jersey. Stephen could never forgive his brother, but he could keep an eye on him, and make sure he never hurt anyone else. 

His mother was a different story. He wondered momentarily why she hadn’t called, but then he remembered he’d turned off his phone. He wasn’t sure if he would even pick up or return her call. He had nothing to say to her after all of these years. Even if she knew about him and Tony, what could she possibly say? He hadn’t spoken to her since all of that trouble with the property in the Hamptons. She’d made her position clear then. If Stephen had any assets she would absolutely try to take it. It had taken years of him moving around money, opening up several accounts, to get her off his back. 

To his knowledge, Christine didn’t know any of this. She knew vague details about his life, knew the timeline of the disintegration of his family. She knew Beverly and Victor were still out there lurking somewhere on planet Earth but the best thing about Christine was she didn’t pressure him to tell her. Tony, on the other hand, had to know everything. Tony had to know what Stephen ate for breakfast when he was twelve, Tony had to know why Stephen switched political affiliations, Tony had to know why Stephen preferred steel cut oats over regular ones. He had an insatiable curiosity and as Sorcerer Supreme, Stephen didn’t know if he could handle it, as there were several things going on that required secrecy. Tony would never relent. Tony would always find out. Everything. 

“I mean… he’s still healing, right?” Christine persisted. “At least he has a therapist. … you should probably see a therapist.”

“I don’t need one!” Stephen snapped. Christine gave him a look while she stubbed out her cigarette. He conceded. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Christine smiled and stretched on the wrought iron bench. “I’m always right.” 

“Even about Nicodemus?” Stephen sat next to her, throwing his arm over her shoulder while she cuddled up to him. 

“I know you don’t think he’s the brightest bulb in the box, but what’s wrong with that? I’m smart enough for the two of us.”

“That you certainly are.” 

He conjured a blanket and it settled over them as he put his feet up on the coffee table. They looked up towards the sky, stars hidden by clouds and light pollution from the city. 

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we never met them?” Christine asked, her voice quiet. Suddenly she felt quite small in his arms. 

“No,” he lied. He didn’t have to imagine, he’d taken a look. Wong would flay him alive if he knew he’d used the time stone like that. But he wondered… 

“You should go back to him, you should talk,” she whispered.

“You should finish your glass of wine.” 

  
  


He didn’t know what time they fell asleep out there. He was rudely awoken by the feeling of water dropping on his face. His ass was numb, the imprints of the bench no doubt leaving permanent marks, and he couldn’t feel the shoulder Christine was still passed out on. Sunlight immediately assaulted his corneas but he blinked up at the asshole throwing water at him. It was Wong. 

“Hope you had a restful slumber,  _ Master _ ,” Wong said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But you are needed elsewhere.” 

“Oh?” Stephen gently shook Christine awake and she groaned. Seemed like she had a splitting headache, too. “Who is it?” 

“I got a phone call because  _ someone _ turned theirs off,” Wong held out his hand and Stephen took it, wobbling as he stood. “But your presence is required uptown immediately.” 

“Ok great, but -” Stephen started but Wong cut him off. 

“Something’s wrong with Tony,” Wong shoved Stephen’s sling ring at him, and the Cloak came bursting through the courtyard doors, ready for action. “Pepper thinks he’s possessed. You better get there quick.” 

His fears realized, Stephen barely let the Cloak settle on his shoulders before he opened a portal. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Earlier that morning, Peter and Harley set up camp at the kitchen island, a holographic screen projected in front of them while they ate their breakfast. They hadn’t seen Tony for days but were well aware he had holed himself up in his lab. Peter clapped triumphantly. With a little bit of ingenuity, they managed to hack into the videofeed for the lab. 

“What’s he doing?” Harley asked, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee. 

“Uh, he just smashed the electron spectrometer,” Peter moved the camera around to get a better glimpse of the workshop. It was a picture of perfect destruction. Parts lay littered all over the lab, DUM-E was busy extinguishing a fire near the north wall. 

“Should we go…?”

“I don’t think so,” Peter watched as Tony suited up and began marching towards a previously untouched table. “He’s using his repulsors quite… liberally.” 

“My circuits project is down there,” Harley frowned as he looked at the screen. It only took one blast.

“Not anymore, it isn’t,” Peter sighed. “Maybe we should pack up. Hunker down at Aunt May’s, or see if Natasha and Bruce got any furniture yet.” 

Nat and Bruce had settled on a nice townhouse in Brooklyn near Sam and Bucky’s apartment. Even Steve and Sharon were a couple of train stops away, and it seemed like an up and coming area. Nat hadn’t been by the tower in a few days, but she knew what was going on. Everyone did. 

“Fuck, man. We can’t go to your Aunt May’s,” Harley slumped in his chair, watching as Tony destroyed perfectly good equipment. “She kicked us out.”

“She kicked  _ you _ out,” Peter corrected, “But given the circumstances…” 

“Given the circumstances, we won’t be going to Ibiza in August like Tony promised,” Harley studied his arachnid counterpart. “And you know what that means, no Ibiza, no -”

“WAP,” Peter responded dejectedly. “I know.” 

Peter was still a little depressed over MJ deciding they should just be friends. She went to college in a different state, and she didn’t think long distance was exactly her cup of tea. Peter was happy to see her earlier this summer, but his attempt to woo her ended quite poorly, even if he did drive a fancy car. 

“We have to  _ do _ something, man,” Harley got up and began rifling through the cupboards. “We have to pull him out of this slump. How many hours has he been awake?” 

“ _ 76 and counting _ ,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chirped. 

“Exactly,” Harley filled up the electric tea kettle and set it to boil. 

“What exactly are we doing?” Peter turned in his chair. He watched Harley whir around the kitchen. He’d learned to be a little skeptical of any of Harley’s plans, they were usually half-assed and dangerous. Almost all of them involved fire. 

“I won’t say every detail so you’re not complicit,” Harley said casually, “But I will tell you that it’s totally natural and organic.”

“But what are we going to  _ do _ ?” Peter furrowed his brow and Harley couldn’t help but smile. 

“We are going to bring Tony a cup of tea.” 

Peter was relieved. That sounded completely harmless...but then again, this was Harley. 

It would be completely harmless, right?


	16. So Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony tells a bunch of teenagers super personal information. Stephen to the rescue... kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Yeah, we got so close, so close to love  
>  But you had to go and mess it up  
> Was it all too much or just not enough?  
> When we got so close, so close to love  
> _  
> \- NOTD

“Hey  _ Tony _ ,” Harley rapped on the door to the lab. The glass panes stopped vibrating as an indication that F.R.I.D.A.Y. had turned down the music long enough for Tony to notice. “Open up!”

Tony disabled his helmet and looked around. He looked terrible - he hadn’t shaved in days and the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than usual. Plates of uneaten food littered the workshop, Harley and Peter had been insistent on sending him meals but he rarely even took a bite. They could see him arguing with F.R.I.D.A.Y. and finally, he responded. 

“What do you want?” He didn’t look at them, just aimed his gauntlet at his next victim. 

“We brought you some tea!” Peter piped up, despite a glare from Harley. “It’s getting cold!” 

“Leave it at the door,” Tony said flippantly. He shot his repulsors at a glass cabinet. He smiled as it shattered. 

“I think you’ll want it hot, Tony!” Harley shouted into the intercom. “It’s a… natural stimulant dated back to the Aztec. It’s only effective when it’s still over 100 degrees, though!” 

Tony paused attacking his next target and turned his body towards the door. 

“It’s a what, now?” 

“It’s a stimulant,” Harley repeated. “It’s supposed to boost the elasticity of your neurons. I know you’re working on your next big thing, so we thought it might help.” 

Tony wandered towards the glass doors. His eyes flitted from the cup of steaming liquid in Harley’s hand to Harley’s face. He was completely stoic. Dead serious. Peter looked like a kid expecting Santa on Christmas. 

“Where’s yours?” Tony asked, folding his arms. “I know you are working on.. that thing.. for your whatever thing you’re doing this summer.” 

Peter would have been absolutely wounded at that statement, but Harley took it in stride. He was very proud of his internship at a manufacturing conglomerate based in the city. He barely needed Tony’s help to secure that job and had worked for several months to prove he was worthy. Tony knew this. His first go-to for shutting people out was “forgetting” important details. Pepper used to get upset by this, Stephen usually ignored it. But Harley had learned how to manipulate Tony since the minute he met him. 

“We already drank ours,” Harley held out the tray as an offering. “We’re going to the InvuTech lab this afternoon to work on our projects.” 

He elbowed Peter. 

“Oh,  _ yes _ ,” Peter nodded vigorously. “I can feel it working already! We really can’t stay for too much longer or we won’t get the most bang for our buck. Just drink it, Mr. Stark! It’ll help.” 

“Fine,” Tony looked between their expectant faces and sighed. He opened the door to the lab and roughly grabbed the tray out of Harley’s hands. He chugged the drink, leaving the boys astonished as they knew it couldn’t have been far from boiling temperature. With a crisp  _ ahh _ he placed the cup back on the tray and shoved it in Harley’s direction. As soon as Harley took it, he closed the door to the lab. “Now scram. I have work to do.” 

Harley beamed as they turned away from the lab and strolled towards the elevator. Tony drank the  _ entire _ cup. Harley knew it didn’t taste very good, he’d had it himself more than a few times. He even weighed the tea out assuming Tony would be drinking it over a few hours. With the help of Peter, it was gone within seconds. 

“So now what?” Peter asked, pressing the button to get them back to the apartment. 

“Now we get him some snacks,” Harley grinned. “He’s going to be hungry.” 

  
\---

They returned to the lab twenty minutes later to find it empty, the door ajar. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Peter breathed. “ _ Fuckity fuckin fuck _ .”

Peter tore through the workshop trying to find Tony. He called his name as he checked underneath tables, opened closets, and picked up burning rubble. Tony wasn’t  _ anywhere _ . If Peter didn’t know any better, he would have thought he’d disappeared into thin air. He ran his hands through his hair, pulling the skin on his forehead backwards as he swore. Did he really just lose Tony Stark?? 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. _ ,”  _ Harley said casually, flipping through charred remains of blueprints on Tony’s desk. “Where’s Tony?” 

“Out,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, “Miss Potts came by and escorted him to the youth conference scheduled today-”

Peter began flipping out. He let out a stream of really imaginative expletives and Harley was impressed, but undeterred. He could barely hear the A.I. over the stream of word vomit exiting Peter’s mouth. 

“... would you like the coordinates?” he heard F.R.I.D.A.Y. ask. 

“Oh yes, please. And we’ll need a car, if you can override that -” 

“Certainly,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. acquiesced. “Which would you prefer?”

“The Ferrari should be just fine,” Harley smiled, crumbling a blueprint in his fist. This was going to be interesting. 

\---

“...the foundation has been active for almost fifteen years, mostly thanks to you, or really the generosity of  _ me _ , so your speech mentions that, and after you say a little bit about the start up, you’ll introduce the keynote speaker,” Pepper finished, closing out the notes on her tablet. She looked up to see Tony doing what he does best, not paying attention and looking out the car window. “You better have listened to that, because I’m not repeating myself.” 

“You got it, honey,” Tony was entranced by the view, appreciating every little detail. The sidewalks looked so clean and yet they were so  _ filthy _ . They were crawling up seventh avenue and while he knew the garbage services tended to neglect this neighborhood, he couldn’t help but take note of how colorful everything was. Even the overflowing trash bins seemed to be so vibrant. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but he giggled. “Everything is crystal clear.” 

Pepper didn’t stop to think if he was referring to her plan or to what he was seeing as they drove by, so she continued to explain the evening. As lead investor in this neighborhood project, Tony was strictly there as a public relations representative of Stark Industries. Anyone who knew him knew he never did anything directly with these charity functions, maybe he picked them out if Pepper chose to give him an option. All he had to do was show up and look pretty, and Tony was excellent at doing that. 

So he would schmooze a little. Read the words off the teleprompter, flash his award-winning smile at the thirsty audience, leave ‘em with a joke and introduce the real speaker. He usually loathed these appearances but something about today just made him smile. Maybe it was his lack of sleep catching up to him. 

He figured that was exactly the case until he got to his dressing room in the back of the auditorium. Pepper was dusting his face with makeup to prevent him from looking sweaty underneath the hot lights, and he couldn’t help but break out into a giggle fit as he watched her delicate hands stroke the brush over his face. She was getting irritated as he tried to keep his emotions under wraps, his laughing putting her off from her strict lecture. 

“ _ Are you listening to me _ ?” She said, flustered. She shoved the kabuki brush into her makeup bag and glared at him. “This is really important Tony, they’re starting a new program for underprivileged youths in Flint and you really need to be the ambassador for that project, too.” 

He smiled vaguely in her direction and tuned her out as she ranted on. The lights around the mirror were just so pretty… 

\---

Harley brought the car to a screeching halt in an alleyway besides the auditorium. He winced as he glanced at the security at the side door entrance. This was a high profile event, what with the attendance of world-renowned billionaire philanthropist Tony Stark. Security personnel flanked the perimeter and they were none too happy about the Ferrari pulling up practically to their door. It helped, at the very least, that the license plate screamed Tony Stark. Peter and Harley had to be let in on that basis alone. 

“Yo,” Peter strode confidently over to the security guard. “My name’s Peter, what’s up, man?” 

“Nothin’,” The guard confirmed, looking Peter over. He was a good head taller and probably weighed twice as much. “What can I do for you?” 

“We’re with Mr. Stark, Tony Stark, maybe you’ve heard of him?” Peter puffed up his chest, and Harley couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity. The security guard, in good spirits, waved off Peter and told him in the nicest words to kindly fuck off. Peter protested. “But, I’m Spider-Man!”

“Yeah, me too kid,” he shoved Peter’s shoulder and called over his radio to get more security personnel. “You should get lost before you get in trouble.” 

Without prompting, Harley punched the security guard in the face as hard as he could. The training with Steve Rogers was paying off - with a satisfying  _ crunch _ it was understood that the man’s nose was broken. He let out a wail, followed by a  _ what the fuck, man _ and Harley took off running. With the security guard occupied chasing Harley down the alleyway, Peter slipped inside. 

\--- 

The speech was going well. Pepper had timed it perfectly - he would speak for three minutes exactly and then he’d make the introduction. She stood offstage, watching her ex-husband diligently reading off the teleprompter. But then Tony paused… she noticed him taking deep breaths at the podium, shaking his head. 

She probably shouldn’t have made him mention his father in the speech, but the work Howard had started was critical to Stark Industries’ philanthropic ties to the community. This partnership with the school started with Howard years ago, and Tony only picked it up again (at Pepper’s command) as a PR stunt after Sokovia. 

“I didn’t know my father loved me,” Tony said solemnly. “It’s a trust thing, right? I mean, you only know as much about a person as they are willing to show you. If they don’t express themselves fully, how would you ever know how they feel about you?” 

Pepper scrambled through her notes. This was  _ not _ in her speech, and certainly not relevant. He was supposed to talk about how Howard began this association. 

“Tony?” She whispered into her earpiece, hoping Tony could hear her. “Is everything okay?” 

She watched him wave vaguely in her direction, and he continued to talk, completely unscripted. She was about to go grab him off the stage when she felt a tap on her shoulder. 

“Miss Potts? We have a situation back here,” A security guard beckoned for her to follow him. She could hear Tony rambling about something. She should go out there and stop him, who knows what he was about to say - “Now, please.” 

“Fine,” she huffed, and followed him to a back stairwell. Peter sat on the steps, his head hung glumly, his wrist handcuffed to the railing. She indicated for him to be uncuffed. “Peter, what are you doing?” 

“Is Tony here?” Peter stood, massaging where his wrist had rubbed against the metal cuffs. “I need to talk to him…”

“He’s a little busy, he’s just finishing up his speech,” Pepper wrapped her arm around his shoulder, “Come on.” 

\---

“Maybe he can’t love me because I have an inability to love myself?” The speech had devolved to a full blown soliloquy of Tony’s life. Pepper cringed. What the fuck was he talking about? “Or why did I put so much focus on parents? Siblings? I’d die before I admitted I was anything like my father. But it’s true. Can’t escape it. I work too hard and have a flagrant disregard for rules or order. That’s what makes me a fucking mogul, right?”

“Is this normal?” Peter asked quietly. “Does he always… talk about this stuff to high schoolers?” 

“Uh uh,” Pepper frowned. “I gotta go out there. I have to save this trainwreck.”

“No, that’s what makes me a fucking asshole,” Tony continued. His eyes moved slowly over the crowd, and he held onto the podium for dear life. Why was everything  _ moving _ ? “Curb alert, by the way. Outside Stark Tower. Bunch of shit I just ruined. It’s worth more than your college education. And there you have it, kids. Tony Stark. Unloveable douchenozzle. Billionaire. Well, until I sell all of my stock, but…”

“Ok, rockstar, time for you to go home,” Pepper pushed past the security and pulled Tony gently by the arm. Leaning into the microphone, she finished his speech, “Thank you, everyone, that was Tony Stark. Please don’t upload that to Twitter. Next up is our keynote speaker, please give a round of applause for Dr. Kitawaki!”

“What are you doing? I was fuckin nailing it out there,” Tony pouted as she dragged him offstage. 

“If you were nailing something it definitely wasn’t that speech,” Pepper grunted as Tony’s weight shifted and Peter took his other arm. He was laughing, again. “And  _ what _ is so goddamn funny? Tony, I’m worried about you!” 

“Don’t be…” Tony started, but like a flipped switch, his voice trailed off, his gaze fell, and the burden on Peter and Pepper’s shoulders became heavier and heavier. 

“Fucking hell don’t you dare!” Pepper tried to pull him up but he flopped to the floor like a ragdoll, completely dead weight. Peter bent over him, slapping his face (gently) and calling to him. It was no use. He was alive, but he wasn’t _ there _ . Security personnel watched him fall and they ran over. 

“Get him to the dressing room, quickly,” she snapped. A particularly burly security guard lifted Tony in his arms in one swift motion. Pepper followed them, her ear pressed to her cell phone. She tried Stephen’s cell, but she couldn’t even get a connection. If she couldn’t reach him, she had to reach his second in command. “Wong, it’s an emergency. Send Stephen  _ please _ .” 

\---

Moments later, Stephen stumbled out of the portal. Pepper ran up to him and he supported himself briefly on her shoulder, catching his breath. Dimensional travel wasn’t easy on a hangover. 

“Hi!” She said, clearly relieved. “...you smell like a brewery.”

“Where’s Tony?” Stephen asked. He opted to ignore her comment. Pepper led him to the dressing room where Peter was sitting with Tony. He’d regained consciousness and was chatting Peter’s ear off. 

“... and  _ then _ I went to bed with like, all of the prostitutes, and when I woke it up it was just one dude left!” Tony laughed at his own story, Peter looked horrified. When Stephen stepped into the room, Tony’s eyes lit up. “It’s  _ you _ ! I knew you would come back for me. Get out of here, lizard.” 

Confused, Peter got up and joined Pepper in the doorway. “He thinks I’m a reptile,” Peter said quietly. “Is Mr. Stark going to be okay?” 

“Give us a minute,” Stephen strode over to Tony and began looking him over. “Hi Tony, how are you feeling?” 

“Amazing,” Tony smiled. He was splayed out in a lounge chair, unable to hold up his own neck. But he looked  _ thrilled _ . “Your face looks funny. Has your face always been so fluorescent?” 

Stephen glared at him and continued his assessment. There weren’t any demons present, that was certain. “Can you stop moving for one moment?” Stephen wrestled Tony into a sitting position. “I just want to check your pupillary response.” 

Tony’s jaw dropped in awe as Stephen emitted light from his fingertips, waving it in front of his eyes. His pupils were as dilated as possibly could be, and the light made zero impact. He checked his heart rate, looked around for puncture wounds. Tony was fine, physically. 

“Who am I to you?” Stephen asked him, standing up. “What’s my name?”

“I don’t know,” Tony giggled. “You’re the king Shrimp of Planet wherever. And I  _ love you _ . I know I do.” 

“Right,” Stephen nodded curtly and headed towards the door, leaving Tony laughing to himself on the chaise lounge. 

“What is it? What’s the matter with him?” Pepper stopped him in the doorway, pressing her hand gently on his chest. 

“He’s had a high dose of psilocybin,” Stephen’s face remained stoic. He didn’t know where Tony had gotten the drugs, and he tried to remind himself it wasn’t his responsibility to find out. Tony was his own person. Stephen, unlike Tony, had the capacity to mind his own business. “He’ll be fine in a few hours. Just keep him hydrated and out of harm’s way.” 

“Can you stay, Stephen?” Pepper pleaded. “Just for a little while?” 

“I have to go,” he said icily. Without another word, he created another portal and disappeared. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this'll all wrap up nicely with a super cute throwback to _Me Without You_ I promise. Stay tuned!


	17. All You Need to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Harley. Stephen reads texts from Tony. Tony reads the New York Times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Anything you feel, put it all on me  
>  All of your thoughts, I want everything  
> And when you get sad, like you do sometimes  
> Put it all on me_
> 
> _I'll lift you when you're feeling low  
>  I'll hold you when the night gets cold  
> You'll never have to be alone  
> And that's all you need to know  
> _  
> \- Gryffin, SLANDER, Calle Lehmann

“You did _what_?” Pepper and Peter had dragged Tony back to Stark Tower, and after an hour or so, Harley showed up, the Ferrari still intact. Tony was still high as a kite and Peter was babysitting him in his bedroom, his arc reactor carefully stashed where he couldn’t grab it. It only took one incident (in the car ride home, no less) for Peter to realize giving Tony access to his suit while he was in this state was a bad idea. 

“I added some psychedelic mushrooms to his tea,” Harley said casually, fixing himself a cup of coffee while Pepper stalked around the kitchen island. “He needed to chill out.” 

“ _He needed to chill_ -” Pepper was about to lose her mind. 

“Apparently you do, too. I still have some,” Harley pointed towards the cupboard, “You want?” 

“Oh my god, Harley,” she grasped her forehead. She wondered, sometimes, where Tony collected these kids. “You can’t just _dose_ people, they need to consent -” 

“Tony and I tripped together before,” Harley sipped his coffee. “Why do you think he took me to New Orleans for my eighteenth birthday?” 

“Okay… okay. Look, I can’t stay here all day. I have to go do damage control,” Her phone was buzzing a mile a minute and she had zero doubt it was their publicist. “You have to stay here and take care of Tony. Call me when he’s normal.” 

“So… call ya never?”

“You know what I meant!” Pepper snapped, and ripped her purse off the counter. The kid had Tony’s snark. She slammed the door on her way out. 

* * *

Stephen was mad at himself. As he set foot into the Sanctum he couldn’t help but let the anger override his other feelings. All it took was one phone call to get him right back to Tony. Why did he even go? Some greater sense of duty as Sorcerer Supreme? Even if Tony _was_ possessed, was that not something they could call a damn local priest for? Shit. 

Christine was brushing her teeth in the bathroom. She’d left a note on his desk which he noticed as he flopped into his chair. 

“Hey,” she popped her head into his study. “Thought you’d be gone a lot longer. I was just heading out - can I make you breakfast? Lunch?” 

“No,” Stephen said miserably. “Thanks.” 

“How was Tony?” 

“Fine,” He swiveled in his chair, looking out the great window. Half his day was gone and he was annoyed he’d spent even just a few minutes of it on Tony, like he didn’t even have any pride and just went crawling back to him no matter what. For fuck’s sake, he had to get a grip. 

“Okay, well… I should head home. Nick’s probably wondering where I am,” Christine walked over and planted a kiss on Stephen’s forehead. He didn’t move. “I know you’re not ‘doing phones’ right now, so send a raven or whatever you wizards do when you’re off the grid. I’m here for you, alright?” 

Stephen grunted and she left the room. So much for elevating his mood. 

\---

He was suffocating. Wong was following him around the Sanctum, asking for directions for things he really should know. Stephen was so close to just yelling at him, but he knew better than to piss off Wong, so he took it out on the apprentices. 

They had gotten used to his surly mood, but this was next level. Stephen threatened to banish them to other dimensions if they pissed him off, so as the day progressed, the apprentices became increasingly sparse. When Stephen barked at the last apprentice willing to approach him, Wong had to put his foot down. 

“Get it together, Stephen,” he said, disappointed. “What’s your fucking problem?” 

Stephen rarely heard Wong swear, so he noted his concern but promptly told him to fuck off. Before Stephen could react Wong shoved him, a portal forming behind him and he was falling, his cloak being ripped from his shoulders, his sling ring yanked from his fingers. He heard echoes of the Ancient One’s voice. 

_You cannot beat a river into submission,_

_you have to surrender to its current._

_Surrender, Stephen._

“Not this shit again!” Stephen barely managed to shout before the bitter cold attacked his throat. He squinted at the unwelcome scene of the Tibetan mountain range - if he didn’t freeze to death first, snow blindness would ravage his eyesight soon. Wong had left him at the summit of Mount Everest, a rather unoriginal tactic he thought. 

But what was the _point_? What was it to Wong if Stephen “got his shit together”? He was there to do Stephen’s bidding, practically. The cold reminded him that was a narcissistic thought and Wong’s priority would always be what was good for the universe, not Stephen Strange. 

He had minutes. Is that why he was here? To decide what was good for the _universe_? Like it was up to fucking Wong. What did it matter to Wong if he figured his shit out with Tony or not? Was this even about Tony? 

He looked so helpless in the dressing room, sprawled out on the furniture like he was part of the room’s decoration. At that moment, Stephen wasn’t his boyfriend, wasn’t the Sorcerer Supreme. He was a friend, and most importantly, a doctor. And Tony was fine after all that, probably. He seemed fine. He seemed… happy. 

It was probably the drugs talking. Maybe Tony would be better off without him, happier without the drama and secrecy and danger. Stephen laughed at that. If there was drama, secrecy, or danger, Tony was always in the middle of all of it. That’s probably what drew him to Stephen in the first place. 

The cold began to feel like fire, and he had no doubt hypothermia was soon to set in. He’d start stripping off his clothes in a manic attempt to save his own life and maybe within a few months or years some lucky climbers or sherpas would discover his corpse. Wonderful. 

He was fucked. Every single path always led to Tony. Every timeline. Every movement of his life. Even consulting the timestone, Tony was present somewhere in his life. Even if he was _dead_ , Tony made an impact on Stephen’s life no matter what. He was inevitable. 

Did Tony really betray his trust? If he loved Tony like he said he did, why didn’t he tell him everything? He supposed it was the same reason Tony didn’t tell _him_ everything - it wasn’t in their nature. They told the truth to each other about superficial shit - how stupid they looked, if their breath smelled funny, or if one of them was acting like a pompous jackass. But being truly vulnerable? 

It didn’t help that everything had happened to Tony lately. When did Stephen even have time to show himself to Tony? He was practically looking after the man every step of their relationship. Tony was depressed. Tony was manic. Tony was suicidal. Tony needed a hug. It was fucking exhausting. Stephen needed a goddamn hug. And a nice, long, uninterrupted bath. 

Was it his fault, then? Tony was doing the work. Tony was seeing a therapist and making strides in his life and maybe it didn’t matter if Stephen was there or not. Maybe Tony didn’t need him, and that was his biggest fear.

If there was any moisture left in his body he would have cried. He sunk into the snow, his limbs unfeeling. Tony didn’t need him. But Stephen… Stephen was a disaster without Tony. Co-dependence is a harsh reality. He could work on it, certainly. But the largest reason he was mad at himself was that _he didn’t want to_. He loved being able to call Tony in the middle of the night, he loved being able to drop by his lab whenever he pleased. He loved sharing Tony’s family time, and he would absolutely be a liar if he admitted he didn’t think of Tony’s kids as his own. He was part of Tony’s family. Tony was his family. 

Just like that, a ring of orange sparks formed and he felt a wave of heat wash over him. 

“Oh good,” Wong held out his hand and helped Stephen through the portal. “I really thought you were gonna die out there. You’re so fucking stubborn.” 

  
  


* * *

By the time Wong was certain he wasn’t going to lose any fingers or toes from hypothermia, Stephen had settled in his study, maintaining his body temperature with the help of the cloak. He reached into his desk and took out his phone. 

Turning it on, he waited as notification after notification piled up. He decided to wait it out, wanting to be sure to read each and every notification in chronological order. There were several missed calls, stored voicemails, and texts. Pepper, Nat, and Christine had called or texted a few times. Even Peter and Harley had called a few times. But he didn’t care about them.

Tony left two voicemails, seven missed calls, and thirty-two text messages. He thought that indicated a little bit of restraint on Tony’s part, but maybe he had given up. Maybe he had broken up with him. He clicked on the first voicemail, it was right after he left the Tower that night.

“ _Hi. Can we talk, please? You didn’t give me enough time to explain myself_ ,” His heart beat raced listening to the sadness in Tony’s voice. He clicked on the next one. “ _Why aren’t you fucking answering? Did you turn off your phone? Call me back_.” 

Tony called three more times that night before he switched to texts. 

**STARK:**

Why won’t you call me back?

Hello?

Hellooooo

Did you turn off your phone

There was a pause in Tony’s messages for almost twenty-four hours. He started texting at 7pm and then it was radio silence after that. He imagined Tony had a day to cool down, to think things through. He’d probably also had the advantage of liquid courage, as Tony always got extra text-y when he’d had a scotch or five. 

**STARK:**

Honey, I know I’m an idiot. I’ll be the first to admit that. You just drive me crazy.

I didn’t mean to send that last part.

I just meant that when you didn’t answer my very important question to you that night that we won’t talk 

about and then you left, I went kind of insane

But I totally blame the Russian because I absolutely wouldn’t have called your mother if she didn’t hack into every single database known to mankind

Like I mean every single one

And I mean Nat hacked, not your mother

Probably I mean I don’t know maybe she did

There were a few minutes, and then Tony started texting again.

**STARK:**

Why did HYDRA want to kill you when you were just a neurosurgeon?

Anyway

Things just kind of spiraled out of control and I don’t exactly *regret* knowing these things about you, it makes sense, why you don’t want to commit yourself to me, I totally get it

But I just wish you had told me

Or maybe you would have, given enough time, and I just jumped the gun

Either way I didn’t mean to hurt you.

I love you. 

I would do anything for you.

There was a pause.

**STARK:**

You’re my sun, moon, and stars, and all the crap in between that no one talks about. 

And that’s the gayest thing I have ever said voice-to-text.

I guess what I’m saying is when you get this NO I DON’T WANT ANY

Sorry, Peter’s ordering pizza

What I’m saying is when you get this, call me, please

Even if you’re like, going to break up with me, which I get

I understand. Totally. 

I just want to know that you know, you know?

That was the worst, I hate myself.

No, don't write that.

Oh fuck off.

Not you, honey, the 

Stephen smiled.

**STARK:**

Never mind. Love you. Bye. 

  
  
  


It took two rings before Tony picked up. Stephen was relieved to hear his voice in real time.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Stephen said meekly. “How was your trip?”

“Ha, ha,” Tony said sarcastically. “What’s up?”

“We need to talk,” Stephen tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice. It was difficult against Tony’s clear commitment to pretending things were as normal as possible.

“We are talking.”  
  
“I mean we need to _talk_ , Tony. Preferably in person. I mean face to face,” Stephen feigned annoyance.

“Alright,” Tony was completely nonplussed. Stephen waited for another response, but nothing came. 

“... Can I come over?”

“I’m in bed,” He could hear Tony yawn. 

“It won’t take long.”

“I’m still in bed,” The shuffle of papers told him he was sitting in his bed, reading the _New York Times_ like he always did. Stephen would have an hour, at least, before Tony truly went to sleep. 

“I’ll see you soon.” 

\---

It was exactly how Stephen pictured. He walked down the dark hallway in Stark Tower, pushed Tony’s bedroom door open, to find him reading with the illumination of his bedside lamp. He was wearing his prescription glasses, a feature Stephen rather enjoyed as it made Tony’s doe eyes look even bigger. It was endearing, but Tony avoided wearing them in public at all costs. He pretended not to notice the sorcerer as Stephen gently closed the door behind him. When Stephen approached the bed, Tony gently patted the corner, indicating for him to sit.

“I missed you,” Stephen smiled, even though his heart was breaking, and sat.  
  
“I always miss you,” Tony grinned, but his face turned serious when he saw how upset Stephen was. “What’s this about?” 

“I love you, Anthony. I always will.” 

“Ok, sweetheart, but why are you crying?” Tony reached out to caress his face but Stephen turned, Tony resting his hand on his arm instead. 

“I can’t marry you,” Stephen barely squeaked. His throat was so clogged with mucus he didn’t know if anything else would come out, but the tears were falling freeform down his cheeks. 

“Why not?” Tony asked softly. Stephen swallowed, trying to clear his throat. 

“Me, my family, my past, my future -”

“Slow down there, cowboy. Pick one and let’s talk it out,” Tony’s comforting tone was grating at Stephen’s will, breaking him down to the very core. How could he be so _calm_? Stephen was crumbling. He wanted Tony to be angry, to be sad, to be anything but consoling and for some fucking reason Tony was being perfectly amenable. His voice cracked as he felt his words bubbling to the surface, his worries, his concerns. 

“Beverly and Victor, you know what they’re like, they’re terrible, they’ll come after us for all you’ve got -” Stephen laughed at the fact he wouldn’t be contributing anything financially to this relationship. It was the opposite he had worked so hard for his entire life. 

“Ok first off, I can take care of your family -” Tony said frankly, and Stephen glared at him.

“You’re not killing them, Tony.”

“Of course not,” Tony said dismissively. He didn’t care about Victor - he was weak, useless, and uninteresting. Beverly, on the other hand, was terrifying. “I’d have Natasha do it.” 

“Tony…” Stephen said in a warning tone. 

“I was joking. Continue,” Tony rubbed his arm and Stephen melted again.

“I’m not good at this, I’m terrible at communicating my needs and I’ll always be lacking,” his nose was running and he couldn’t help but think about how unattractive he looked as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. 

“You’re talking to the king of miscommunication, we can work on it together. Next.”

“I have this… this problem… this _nemesis_ in another galaxy and it forces me to access the dark dimension and use the Darkhold to defeat them. I’m not winning, Tony,” he studied Tony’s face, waiting for a reaction. Tony’s expression didn’t waver. “I’m just barely skirting by and it makes me feel like the biggest loser in the universe. Every time I use the Darkhold I risk forgetting you. I risk forgetting everything.”

“No biggie, I’d help you remember,” Tony consoled him with a peck on the cheek like it was the smallest hurdle ever. “Or, I’d make you fall in love with me all over again. Wouldn’t take too long.” 

His confidence was charming and that made Stephen cry harder. 

“Oh, honey, don’t cry, we’re fucking superheroes!” It made Tony feel like the biggest sap saying that line, but Stephen had to know it was true. Together, they had faced the most obscene obstacles known to mankind and they’d come out alive. Sure, they’d had their fair share of bruises and beatings, but they still had each other. They always had each other. “If anyone can go the mile it’s us. And if we can’t, we can’t say we didn’t try. Would you rather give up?”

Tony regretted saying that last sentence as soon as he had said it. Stephen’s face contorted and he began to ugly cry.

“No,” Stephen sobbed, and Tony had to refrain from spilling tears of his own. It was tearing him apart seeing Stephen like this. His superhero. “I don’t want to give up, I don’t want to give up on you ever. I want to be with you, Tony, forever.” 

“You got me, sweetheart,” Tony pulled Stephen into his arms, rubbing the sorcerer’s back as his tears penetrated his t-shirt. Stephen held on to him for dear life. “You have all of me. Always.”

When Stephen had let out the worst of his tears, he looked up at Tony - his eyes bloodshot, his face puffy, his heart broken and repaired. Tony fell apart, pulling Stephen’s chin up to his for a salty kiss. Like a man starving, Stephen attacked his lips. God, how he regretted the wasted time - he should have told Tony everything from the beginning, he shouldn’t have been so proud. He should have told Tony how he felt as soon as he did. He just wanted Tony to know how much he loved him, how much he cherished him. It poured out of him in eagerness and he climbed on top of Tony, his mouth dominating the kiss, deepening it, exploring Tony’s mouth like it was brand-new territory. 

“I love you,” Stephen said breathlessly.

“Show me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> squeeeeeee


	18. Falling Like Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I swear to God, when I come home  
>  I'm gonna hold you so close  
> I swear to God, when I come home  
> I'll never let go  
> Like a river, I flow  
> To the ocean, I know  
> You pull me close, guiding me home  
> \- James Arthur_

Something about the way Stephen kissed him spurred him to say it. Behind every swipe of his tongue, every movement of his lips sang of a certain desperation Tony had never witnessed before. Stephen was grinding his hips into Tony’s and the words just spilled out.

“ _ Show me _ .”

Stephen stopped, his hands at the hemline of Tony’s shirt, and  _ growled _ . He nipped at the sensitive skin on Tony’s stomach, ghosting his lips over Tony’s abdomen. His hands traveled underneath Tony’s shirt. He dragged his fingertips down Tony’s clavicle, feeling each and every inch of Tony’s chest. When Tony had settled into his bed to read the  _ Times  _ he certainly hadn’t expected this. 

“Hell _ o _ ,” Tony said suddenly, as he felt a rush of cold air. Stephen had worked his way underneath the bed covers, ripping Tony’s pants down in an abrupt fashion. He was sucking on Tony’s neck, his hand teasing Tony’s member to life. Ok, teasing was a misnomer - he was fisting Tony’s cock for all he was worth. “Easy killer, we have all night!”

The irrational part of Stephen’s brain was telling him ‘no’. He felt he had a very short window to prove to Tony how much he loved him and he had to do it now. He had to make up for the last few days, he had to make up for every single time he ignored him, every time he wasn’t present, every time he was the man who was less than what Tony deserved - 

“Holy  _ shit _ , honey, I’m serious!” Tony placed his hand over Stephen’s, pausing Stephen’s frantic movements on his cock. He smiled as he kissed Stephen’s confused face, quieting his protests with his lips. “Let’s not end this party before it starts.” 

“Why not?” Stephen smiled and moved south. Tony’s breath hitched as he felt Stephen’s lips ghost down his body. He paused over Tony’s cock and kissed it gently. “This is for you.” 

Tony still gripped one of his hands, but the other was free to roam. Tony let out a low moan as he felt Stephen’s tongue on his length, his other hand making enticing circles on his thigh. Despite Stephen’s earlier protests, he was certainly taking his sweet time. Stephen slowly took Tony into his mouth, enjoying the feel of Tony growing on his tongue with every movement. 

“I, uh… okay,” Tony stuttered out, his mind momentarily blacking out as Stephen’s talented mouth took him in fully. He had definitely missed this - the warmth of Stephen’s body against his legs, the sorcerer’s trembling hands massaging his body as he writhed beneath his touch. 

He stole a glance to look at Stephen. He was wearing entirely too much clothing, and Tony tugged at his shirt to pull it off. Stephen paused his ministrations to remove his shirt and Tony couldn’t help but let out a sigh of satisfaction. As Stephen tossed his shirt aside, Tony admired the sorcerer’s raw beauty. His chest looked like it was carved out of marble, and Tony couldn’t help but run his fingers over his smooth skin. The curve of his pectoral muscles, his perfectly defined abdomen, the shallow groove leading to the apex of his thighs…His vision was only momentarily disrupted when Stephen took off his pants, revealing his hard member. Tony licked his lips looking at it, Stephen’s cock a mere reflection of his virility.

With Tony’s legs wrapped around his waist, Stephen made a swirling motion in the air with his fingers and Tony had to laugh. A tube of lubrication was floating to them and to be fair, the king-sized bed was a bit much to climb over to the bedside table. Ignoring Tony’s reaction, Stephen wordlessly lubricated his fingers. He could see the look of concern in Tony’s eyes, but nothing today was going to stop him. He needed to do this, needed to feel him.

As a rule, they didn’t do this. The capability of Stephen’s hands had long been a point of contention in their relationship. Tony argued if they had magic, they should use it. If they had toys, they should use them. If Tony had to prepare himself, he would do it. It didn’t matter, all he wanted was to feel Stephen inside of him. Tonight was different. Without a hint of hesitation, Stephen placed one hand to hold down Tony’s knees, the other feeling Tony’s entrance. 

“Are you sure?” Tony asked quietly.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” Stephen said assuredly. He pushed in, relishing in the pressure around his finger. It didn’t hurt now, but it would. He eased his finger in slowly. The pulsations of Tony’s body did most of the work, and he listened to Tony’s breaths as he got knuckle-deep. Soon enough he worked another finger in, ignoring his body’s signals of pain and discomfort. When the cramping came he used it to his advantage, curling his fingers to brush against Tony’s prostate. He grit his teeth as Tony arched up off the bed, a hand coming down on Stephen’s shoulder to steady himself.

“Fuck, sorry,” Tony winced, “Are you okay?” 

Stephen responded by adding another finger, enjoying the momentary silence and look of pure bliss on Tony’s face. He worked his fingers in and out of Tony’s body for just a little longer, and when he was confident Tony was ready, he placed himself at his entrance. Tony’s eyes were heavily lidded, watching his every move, a serene smile locked on his lips. 

“Do it,” Tony urged him on with a gentle rock of his hips. Stephen obliged, pushing forward. He immediately sank into Tony’s tight heat, quickly losing his grasp of space and time, the urgency he felt earlier suddenly forgotten. Tony let out a deep groan as Stephen worked his way in, and they looked at each other as Stephen became fully sheathed inside of him.

Tony was acutely aware of his own heartbeat. He could feel blood thrumming through his body, sending heat to his cheeks and ears but most importantly, to his cock - which currently lay impatiently on his stomach. Stephen was studying him, watching his chest rise and fall, watching his cock twitch as he waited, watching as his mouth slowly parted as Stephen pulled out. 

This was everything. This was everything Tony wanted or needed, and he was fairly confident he could die now and be pretty happy about it. Stephen moved his hips at an agonizingly slow pace but refused to meet Tony for a kiss. Tony tried to pull him down, pulled at his shoulders, at his back - but Stephen stayed upright, watching his cock disappear into Tony’s tight hole. 

Tony needed more. He needed friction on his cock, he needed Stephen to  _ move faster _ . He reached forward to caress Stephen’s balls and that increased the pace. Stephen leant over him, thrusting deeper and harder.

“You feel amazing,” Stephen said in a low voice, his breath hot on Tony’s lips. Tony could barely respond. He felt his cock brush against Stephen’s stomach and he wined, pushing upwards. Stephen smiled. “So tight and so warm, you were made for me.” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Tony agreed, meeting Stephen for every thrust. He ran his hands down Stephen’s strong back, admiring the ripples he felt whenever Stephen pushed into him. His cock was leaking, teased by the fullness he felt and the softness of Stephen’s skin against his. “I can feel you, so fucking big inside of me. Fuck, you make me feel good!”

“Only  _ good _ ?” Stephen responded with a harsh thrust of his hips and Tony moaned. Tony didn’t reward him with a response - he could hear Stephen’s breath becoming ragged, an indicator of how close he was. Tony slid his hand in between their bodies, firmly grasping his own length in rhythm with Stephen’s pace. 

He could feel Stephen’s cock pulsing in his body, could feel with how every moment they both approached ecstasy. Coaxing Stephen into a sloppy kiss, Tony inhaled deeply. He was so close to his orgasm but he just wanted to be sure Stephen was there, too. 

“Fill me up, sweetheart,” he swiped his tongue along that sensitive point underneath Stephen’s earlobe. Stephen began pounding in earnest then, each thrust pushing Tony deeper into the mattress. As Stephen rocked into him, Tony came with Stephen’s name on his lips. Sending his seed all over his belly, his muscles clenched around Stephen’s length and with one final push, Stephen let go. The vibrations from Tony’s body seemed to make him come longer than ever before, and when he was finally spent, he collapsed onto his lover. 

When Stephen had finally collected his breath, he looked up at Tony. He wanted to talk, to confirm, to tell him everything he hadn’t said yet and just douse him in love and affirmations. His desires were cut short when he looked upon the completely placid face of a sleeping Tony Stark. 

He kissed his forehead, his cheek. He planted a soft kiss on Tony’s mouth, his lips slightly parted as he slept.

“I will marry you one day, Mr. Stark,” Stephen said quietly, tucking his head back underneath Tony’s neck. He tried to match Tony’s deep and even breaths, letting his tired body and mind succumb to sleep. 

Even in dreamland, Tony smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol I know I said eighteen chapters but sometimes you gotta drag things out a little. WHOOPS


	19. The Best Time's Right Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley and Peter get into trouble... again. Stephen gets sappy AF.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _All my life been wasting time, for what?  
>  But right now we're living like there's no yesterday  
> 'Cause all my demons, they no longer scare me  
> If I'm dreamin', then don't ever wake me up  
> Don't worry, tonight's all we need  
> Oh, I feel it  
> The best time, the best time's right now  
> _  
> \- Lance & Linton

“Tony, don’t.”

If Tony had a nickel for every time he’d heard that in his life, well - he’d still be a billionaire. Stephen swatted his hand away from the cooling rack. The aroma from Stephen’s baking had brought him up from the lab to the kitchen, and he felt Stephen was being rather cruel. Hints of cinnamon and cardamom teased his senses. He pouted looking at the chocolatey treats begging to be eaten. 

“You let Harley have one,” Tony glanced at the other end of the kitchen island. Harley was absorbed in something on his phone and he held a muffin loosely in his other hand, half eaten.   
“Yes, because that’s the only way he’ll eat vegetables. You, on the other hand, eat enough sugar _as is_ ,” Stephen whisked the rack away, moving it closer to the part of the kitchen where he was using the stand mixer. A fine layer of flour dusted the counter, and Stephen refocused his attention on adding ingredients to the bowl. 

“And who’s fault is that?” Tony frowned, opting to drink a glass of water instead. He’d woken before dawn to skip down to his lab and work on his latest project. He’d almost forgotten they had plans that morning. Nat and Bruce had officially settled into their new house and were throwing a housewarming brunch for some reason. Tony thought it an odd time of day but it wasn’t his party. He just had to show up, make nice, and then he could come home and keep working. If he was lucky, he’d even be able to snag one of Stephen’s muffins. “Where’s Pete?” 

“Out,” Stephen said distractedly. “Something about… something. He said he’ll meet us there.” 

Every once in a while Tony felt like a guest in his own house. The summer had been busy and chaotic even without the turbulent beginning. Peter and Harley were constantly in and out of the tower, either working or socializing, or dragging back projects to have Tony fix. Stephen was busy as ever but managed to show up whenever he was able. Tony had the kids for a few weeks straight while Pepper and Happy vacationed somewhere that sounded incredibly boring, and besides that, he had them every weekend as well. 

But things were moving along without him. Harley had moved into the guest bedroom without telling anyone, Peter had gutted Bruce Banner’s old lab and started setting up his own. Stephen took over the cooking while he was home and slowly, Tony was starting to notice Stephen had begun to decorate the apartment with his own stuff. It only took one cursed vase for Tony to learn very quickly not to touch any of Stephen’s things. 

He’d seen Nat sporadically over the summer. She was actually interested in setting up her new house and spent a lot of time over there. She was located within walking distance of Steve and Bucky’s apartments and from what Tony could tell from her social media posts, she spent a lot of time with them as well. 

The best thing about the summer so far was reconfirming his love for Stephen. They didn’t get to spend a lot of time together, but when they did, they made it count. The cat was out of the bag and at the very least, Stephen was well aware of Tony’s intentions. They never set a time, place, or any form of deadline. But Stephen  _ knew _ . 

Tony abandoned Phase III. He didn’t feel it was productive and he didn’t want to push Stephen away. He was so close to losing him and he didn’t think he could cope with that feeling ever again. Instead, he would catch himself watching the sorcerer so intently that Stephen felt uncomfortable. He called Tony out on it several times, but Tony would just smile. He didn’t have all that he wanted - but he had Stephen, and for the time being, that was enough. 

“You should shower,” Stephen said in a tone that made it sound less like a suggestion and more like a command. “You smell like oil.” 

“Thank you,” Tony reached out for a muffin but Stephen saw him out of the corner of his eye and sent an electrical shock from the tips of his fingers. Tony retracted his hand quickly, but not without displaying his pain and disappointment. “Ow! I thought you said no magic in the house!”

“Only in the bedroom,” Stephen winked, and they heard Harley audibly gag. 

“You guys are gross. You can have mine,” He tossed Tony the remnants of his muffin. “And you wonder why I moved out of my room…” 

Stephen and Tony looked at each other, puzzled. Harley hopped off the stool, pushing it roughly back underneath the counter. He shot them a withering look.

“ _ I could hear everything _ ,” he said menacingly, then turned on his heel and stomped off towards his new bedroom. After he was out of earshot, Tony and Stephen burst out laughing. 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” Stephen pulled Tony in for a quick embrace. “ _ Everything _ ?” 

Tony grinned into his shoulder. “I don’t even want to know what he heard. Don’t think about it too much, you’ll hate yourself.” 

Stephen was still giggling to himself when he leaned in and took a whiff of Tony’s t-shirt.

“Tony?”

“Hmm?” Tony pulled back, looking deeply into Stephen’s grey-blue eyes. He brought his lips close to Stephen’s for a kiss…

“Go take a shower.” 

  
  


Nat and Bruce purchased a brownstone in the middle of the block. Tony had already driven around three times trying to find a parking spot, but to no avail. He was swearing up a storm but was being pleasantly ignored by the other occupants of the vehicle. 

“I told you we shouldn’t drive,” Stephen shook his head disapprovingly while he checked his phone. There were messages coming in faster than he could keep up with. Annoyed, he put his phone away. 

“Forgive me for wanting to take a nice morning drive with my  _ family _ ,” Tony drawled. “I thought it’d be nice.” 

“Yes, it’ll be really nice for all of the thieves in Greenpoint to lift this ride,” Harley popped his head between the driver and passenger seats. The backseat was cramped, barely enough room for one adult, let alone two. His knees knocked into the front seats the entire time. He was grateful Peter was meeting them there. “I bet they haven’t gotten a Tesla prototype before.” 

“Yeah, it’s a prototype because I told Musk it’d be a bad idea to put a backseat in a roadster. Sit back. I can’t find a spot if you’re breathing down my neck,” Tony snapped, scanning the road. He wanted to teleport 500 feet ahead as he saw a white sedan pull out, only for a black SUV to take its place. “Son of a  _ bitch _ !”

“We’re going to be late. Why don’t you just stop outside of Nat’s place and let Harley find a parking spot a couple of streets over?” Stephen patted Tony’s leg reassuringly but Tony glared at him. 

“Over my dead body.” 

“Don’t tempt anyone,” Stephen huffed as Tony turned to circle the block again. “Really, darling, it’s no big deal.  _ Let Harley park the car _ .” 

Tony grappled with his thoughts. Just the idea of letting Harley parallel park on this cramped street made his blood pressure increase. His therapist had told him he had “control issues” and sometimes he really just needed to relax and let someone else take the driver’s seat, literally and figuratively. He didn’t have to be in charge of everything. He wasn’t sure if this was a direct result of telling Stephen what the doctor had said, or if Stephen was really upset that he and Tony would be late for Nat’s brunch. He didn’t want to be the reason for the latter, so he conceded. 

“Fine,” he said, pulling the car into park outside of the brownstone. Harley handed Stephen the basket of muffins and clambered into the front seat. He couldn’t even begin to conceal his happiness as he settled behind the wheel. “Not a fucking scratch, Keener!” 

“Sir, yes sir!” Harley saluted Tony and buckled up. “How fast can this thing go again?”

Before Tony could yank him out of the car, Stephen grabbed him by the arm and led him towards the front door. 

“Let it go,” he muttered in Tony’s ear. “He’ll be fine.”

“ _ NOT A SCRATCH _ !” Tony hollered as his precious roadster took off down the road. 

  
  


“Hey! Glad you could make it,” Bruce hugged Tony as soon as he walked through the door. The foyer was pristine - slate colored stairs wrapped up towards the second floor, and the entryway was painted gray with white accents. A bright red vase sat directly underneath a modern art painting on an antique side table. “I wasn’t expecting you to drive.”

“Me either,” Stephen frowned. He gave Bruce a side armed hug and held out the muffins. “Where can I put these?” 

Bruce led Stephen down the hallway and Tony poked his head into the room immediately adjacent to the foyer. Built in bookcases reached towards the tin ceiling, the former parlor had been renovated to be the first floor library. He cracked a smile as he glanced at the titles. Each book had been organized by category and by author. It was no surprise he didn’t see much of Bruce and Natasha over the summer, they probably spent most of it organizing. 

“Don’t make fun of me.”

Tony felt a poke in his ribs and he turned to see Nat. She had dyed the tips of her hair red again, pulling loose strands into a messy low ponytail. She looked the most comfortable Tony had ever seen her, donning comfortable slacks and a bright yellow cardigan. 

“Hi stranger,” he kissed her on the cheek. “The place looks great. Way better than Bora Bora.” 

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, wrapping her arm around Tony’s waist. “I had input this time.” 

He knew Nat and Bruce had been going through a rough patch before they moved back to New York. It wasn’t easy for her to talk about without using extremely lame and slightly confusing metaphors, but from what he gathered, they seemed happy. Nat was glowing. 

“You guys good?” He asked her seriously, pausing before they entered the kitchen. He could hear Bruce telling a story rather loudly and vague chatter from the other people crowded in there. 

“We’re really good,” Nat smiled. She resonated with the same calmness she had when they first started dating and she was positively smitten. “You two?” 

“Better than ever,” Tony grinned, and he meant it. Nat gripped him in a side hug and let her head rest on his chest briefly. 

“I’m happy for you, Tony.”

“Thanks doll, me too.” With a kiss on her forehead, he pushed open the kitchen door. 

  
  


“Bull _ shit _ ,” Tony crossed his arms at the dining room table. Laughter rang out around the table as Steve finished his story.

“I kid you not! The cashier looked straight at Bucky and told him he wasn’t allowed to buy the last can of sardines because it was expired,” Steve was laughing with tears in his eyes, recalling the perplexed look on Bucky’s face. “They wouldn’t let him leave the store until he signed a waiver.” 

“It was the last can of  _ Captain Ivanov _ at that Gristedes, I had to get it,” Bucky pouted, twirling his empty champagne glass on the table. Nat was the only one to sympathize, leaning over the table to refill his drink. 

“I understand completely,” she winked at the super soldier and raised her glass to him. Sam Wilson sat beside him, shaking his head. 

Nat was thrilled to have her friends all gathered in one place once more. There were new people, and they were certainly missing a few. She tried not to mull on it too much as she glanced around the table and saw all of their smiling faces. She was finally home. A slam of the front door announced the newest arrival. 

“Sorry we’re late!” A familiar voice called down the hallway. Plastic bags rattled in their hands, and a clatter suggested their contents had just spilled onto the floor. 

“Oops.” A second voice said quietly. Tony planted his forehead in his hand. He didn’t want to know. He was about to get up when Stephen put his hand out, and stood up instead. Tony watched him walk through the kitchen to the door, and Stephen gently closed the door behind him. 

“Peter, no -” 

“But I thought you wanted me to-?” Tony could hear Peter protesting. 

“No,” Stephen said firmly. He continued to chat with(or reprimand?) Peter but it was impossible to discern from the table. 

Harley strolled into the kitchen looking quite proud of himself, and tossed Tony the keys to the Tesla. “Howdy, everyone.”

Helping himself to the assortment of food at the kitchen island, Harley hummed and filled his plate. Thumps could be heard from the hallway, Stephen and Peter’s hushed voices cutting at each other. Steve might have been the only person at the table to hear what they were saying, but if he did, he didn’t show it - cutting quietly into his breakfast sausage and looking at his plate. Tony was still shellshocked, looking at his keys. 

“Did you leave Brooklyn?” He asked finally, taking into account how many minutes it had been since Harley had been tasked with parking the car. 

“Nope,” Harley said, popping the ‘p’. He settled into an empty chair between Carol Danvers and Clint, his face smug as he bit into a piece of toast. “Just picked up Pete.”

A flash of orange light peeked through the panes of the door leading to the hallway. No one seemed to notice or care that Stephen had made a portal, and he could be heard hollering directions at Peter.

“ _ BE GENTLE WITH THAT _ !”

“You don’t have to yell, I can hear you just fine!” Peter hollered back.  _ Crash _ . “Oh, that’s what you meant -” 

More indistinct yelling later, Peter and Stephen emerged from the hallway. Peter, with his tail between his legs, quietly made himself a plate of food and sat at the kitchen counter. 

“I saved a seat for you,” Nat patted the chair next to her and Peter looked longingly at it, but he resigned himself to stay put. 

“The table is for winners,” Stephen said nonchalantly, refolding the napkin in his lap. “Isn’t that right, Peter?”

Peter glumly nodded and Tony couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“What happened out there?” He turned to Stephen but the wizard didn’t make eye contact.

“Nothing.”

He and Stephen were waiting on the curb. Harley and Peter had been sent to go bring the car around, but after half an hour, Tony seriously doubted they were coming. 

“I told you it was a bad idea,” Tony grumbled, keeping his eyes peeled on the Brooklyn street. 

“Maybe he forgot where he parked,” Stephen offered.

“Yes, thank you for instilling me with confidence.” 

“Let’s just walk home,” Stephen suggested, taking Tony’s hand in his. 

“What?” Tony balked, turning to face him. “That’ll take hours, at least.” 

“Do you have other plans for this afternoon, Mr. Stark?” Stephen planted a kiss on his lips, momentarily silencing the petulant engineer.

“Uh… no,” Tony admitted. 

“It’ll be good exercise,” Stephen tapped him on the nose and turned to head north. Tony groaned. He hated when Stephen used exercise as an excuse to do anything, except for that one thing… 

Tony would rather die than admit it was actually a good idea. The weather was gorgeous, his company even moreso. Stephen looked particularly dashing in business casual. He wore a light blue button up and tan pants, the sleeves on his shirt rolled up to show off his sleek forearms. 

They paused in the middle of the Brooklyn bridge, admiring the view of the New York Harbor. They’d both spent the majority of their lives in New York City and the view from this bridge never ceased to amaze Tony. When a group of tourists began walking towards them, Tony took it as a cue to keep moving. 

Stephen must have felt particularly nostalgic, as he pulled Tony down streets that had particular meaning. He actually teared up as they walked through the Bowery, stopping outside of a boarded-up restaurant. 

“This is where we had our first date,” Stephen practically snivelled looking at the graffiti-ridden door.

“I think our first date was technically on my couch…”

“This is where we had our first  _ public date _ ,” Stephen corrected. He touched the plywood on the windows, remembering. He’d been so nervous to make his first appearance with Tony, but Tony’s demeanor kept him calm. He ignored the paparazzi and prevented them from entering the restaurant. After dinner, Tony made a brief statement and Stephen simply waved. Having got what they wanted, the paparazzi left them alone for the rest of the evening. It was the best possible outcome, even if all of the gossip magazines shat on Tony the next day. 

Tony had to drag Stephen away from the door. They wandered west, Tony barely noticing as they passed the Sanctum on Bleecker street. Stephen was chattier than usual, pointing out random facts he knew about the neighborhood, squeezing Tony’s hand every so often. It was a nice break from the normal hustle and bustle of their busy lives. Tony willed himself to live in the moment, to forget about the project sitting on his desk. 

Stephen was explaining the energy-efficient design of the buildings in the park and Tony didn’t have the heart to tell him that he already knew. Stark Industries had heavily invested in the architect firm responsible for updating the Park House and redesigning the bathrooms and dog run. He added little “ooh, interesting” and “ahh”’s when necessary.

“Do you recognize this bench?” Stephen sat and invited Tony to sit next to him. It had to be a rhetorical question. While Stephen was blessed with his eidetic memory, Tony’s was a bit more selective. He could read a scientific paper or ten in one evening and come away with a solid understanding. He could not, however, remember if he ate any food or if anyone else was in the room with him. He froze as he tried to rack his brain, staring at the stupid bench… “Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart, take a seat.” 

Tony plunked himself down, settling underneath Stephen’s arm. He was feeling energized from their walk but welcomed the brief respite. The park was busy, children playing and laughing, tourists taking pictures in front of the arch and fountain. Tour groups from the university were moving through and Tony had to laugh at how scrawny all of the freshmen looked. Old men had set up their chess tables and were welcoming any challengers who walked by. A slice of New York life. 

“Years ago, I was sitting here minding my own business - when a strikingly handsome man caught my eye,” Stephen said loftily. Tony played along.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I always thought he was a bit of a dick, but he piqued my interest for some reason,” Stephen smiled. “We shared a cup of coffee and caught up. We agreed to work on his project and with my history in neurosurgery, I thought I could help.” 

“I’m sure you did wonderfully,” Tony thought this was so cheesy. He didn’t know where Stephen was going with this.

“I didn’t know it then, but that day would change the rest of my life,” Stephen bit his lip and looked off across the fountain. “I didn’t realize I had stoked the fire on the most instrumental relationship I would ever have. I would open the door to getting to know the most amazing person I have ever met, the one to whom I can contribute most of my own personal growth in the last few years.” 

Tony was melting. His heart was bursting and he didn’t say anything, fearing the tears would finally start rolling down his cheeks and he wouldn’t be able to get them to stop. He almost stopped breathing when Stephen knelt before him, his hands still holding his, and the look in his eyes was so sincere that Tony had to fix his face in a weird frown to keep his chin from trembling. 

“You’ve seen the best of me, and the worst of me. You’ve changed me for the better and I would absolutely be dead if it wasn’t for you,” Stephen’s voice was shaking. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. “I can’t do this without you, Tony. I won’t. I refuse.” 

He opened the box to reveal a simple gold ring. It didn’t take a genius to know that it was made of vibranium, coated with a gold titanium alloy. The well had burst and Tony didn’t stop it. Tears streamed down his face and he could barely see. He was grateful Stephen spoke up because he could barely hear him over his own happy sobs. 

“I love you, Tony. Will you marry me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter will be a mix of an actual last chapter and epilogue. Thank you for reading! Been pouring my energy into a new AU fic with these two, so stay posted. :)


	20. Hey Stupid I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen has a surprise in store, epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Nothing's wrong  
>  And it's not what I'm used to  
> Oh does it surprise you too  
> When it's simple  
> Is it easier than it should be?  
> How could you forget  
> I told you 17 times before 7am  
> Hey stupid, I love you  
> _  
> \- JP Saxe

_ “Follow your heart, Tony Stark.”  _

  
  
  
  


“You didn’t answer me,” Stephen was sitting next to Tony on the park bench. After a wet kiss, Tony had taken the small velvet box out of Stephen’s hands and simply held it in his lap. 

“Isn’t that annoying?” Tony half-laughed, blinking through his tears. 

“I deserved that,” Stephen agreed. He sat back and wrapped his arm around Tony’s shoulder. They could spare a few minutes to enjoy the sunshine. 

  
  


* * *

“Avengers, assemble!” Steve Rogers stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the activity within Stark Tower. People were everywhere - Avengers and anyone else Nat had called in to help. Peter was out on the balcony with an armful of flowers, and Harley was directing DUM-E from the elevator. No one paid attention to Steve. 

“Listen, I know this might be hard for you,” Nat’s voice came from behind him, “but if you could stop being an idiot for like one minute, Bruce needs help bringing in the chairs from the service elevator.” 

“I’m sorry, Bruce needs  _ my _ help?” Steve smiled.

“He’s already in his suit, he can’t Hulk out,” Nat shoved the clipboard she was holding into his chest. “Just go, alright? I don’t want him all sweaty and gross.”

When Nat had told him about the surprise wedding, he thought it was the most peculiar invitation he had yet. He didn’t know Tony and Stephen were engaged, let alone ready to get hitched. It became quickly apparent at the brunch that morning that Tony had no idea. He had to give the sorcerer credit - it was an incredibly ballsy move. But if there was anything that Tony particularly thrived in, it was spontaneous situations. 

“Make sure they’re all there!” Nat hollered after him. She smoothed down the front of her dress and opened her planning binder. Flowers? Check. Live music? The string quartet was setting up on the balcony, check. Food? The caterers were arriving and unpacking. Cake? Kind of check. Stephen had started it before he left for the brunch and Pepper was in the kitchen finishing it up. 

“I gotta hand it to the vegans,” Even though Pepper was wearing an apron, she still managed to get frosting on her arms, her face, and even her hair. “This stuff doesn’t seize up like butter. Spreads like a dream.” 

“It looks great,” Nat peeked into the frosting bowl and swiped her finger around the edge, stealing a bite. “When are you opening up your bakery,  _ chef _ ?”

“Oh, please,” Pepper blushed. She spun the cake around on the turntable checking for evenness. “I can’t help it, my kid is a picky cake eater. Always demands elaborate things like I’m a damn cake boss.” 

“You could hire out for that, you know.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Pepper asked, completely non ironically. Like her ex husband, Pepper was never one to shirk away from a decent challenge. 

“Sorry I’m late!” Christine Palmer backed into the kitchen, her arms full. Nat grabbed a couple of bags out of her hands, placing them gently on the kitchen counter. “Got caught in traffic downtown. There’s some sort of protest outside of Eataly, couldn’t move for like fifteen minutes.”

“That’s great, that should give us a few extra minutes,” Nat flipped through the pages of her binder. They were running behind, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t fix. If she really needed to stall she could just text Stephen, but she didn’t want to  _ have _ to. He had trusted her with the biggest task of all - making sure this day was magical. She would be mad at herself forever if even the tiniest detail slipped through the cracks. 

“Where are they?” Christine asked as she put away some groceries in the fridge. She knew she didn’t need to, but Tony and Stephen always liked to keep a barren fridge and with Peter and Harley staying at the tower, it was near impossible keeping it stocked. 

“Still at Washington Square Park,” Nat checked the GPS on her phone. They’d been there for forty five minutes. If they left now, it would take them an hour to walk straight home. Unfortunately, that was also the time frame guests were slated to arrive. “It’s going to be close.” 

Moments later, Steve Rogers walked back into the apartment looking more than a little bit harassed. All of the buttons off of his ivory shirt had been ripped off except for the bottom two. One cuff of his purple pants was singed and a trail of smoke followed him into the kitchen. He sat quietly at the kitchen counter until all three women looked at him, perplexed looks on their faces. 

“What happened to you?” Pepper said first. He crossed his ankle over his knee, swatting at the still-smoldering fabric. 

“Um… the elevator broke, which pissed off our favorite green friend, and now he’s climbing the elevator shaft…” Nodding towards Nat, he added, “Half the chairs are still in there. I won’t be able to get them set up in time.” 

“When will Sam and Bucky get here?” Nat checked her clipboard. 

“They’re on their way from Brooklyn now,” Steve cleared his throat. They could hear the Hulk roaring in the distance, and he looked at Nat expectantly. 

“Okay… okay I need to go deal with that,” She placed her hand on her forehead, contemplating all of the possible ways she could get this done. She just needed more  _ time _ . “Pepper, could you -”

“We’ll figure it out. Go get Bruce,” Pepper patted her arm gently, getting some frosting on Nat’s arm. She went to get a towel to wipe it off but Nat had already left the room. She picked up Nat’s clipboard and scanned the list. Most things were done or ready but the chairs would obviously be a huge obstacle, and there were several circles around the item labeled ‘Stephen’s ring’. 

“Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Pepper called out to the A.I., “Where’s the ring Tony got for Stephen?” 

“The ring is at U-PAWN WE BUY. The shop is located in the lower east side of Manhattan, at -”

“ _ What _ ?” She interrupted F.R.I.D.A.Y. Less than an hour to go and the ring was downtown at some crappy shop?? This was a mega oversight on Nat’s part, but maybe she thought Tony would have the ring somewhere logical, like  _ inside of the Stark Tower _ . “Why the fuck is it at a pawn shop??” 

“Because Tony’s a petty bitch,” Harley sauntered into the kitchen and opened up the fridge, looking for a drink. Apparently he and Peter were finished with whatever task Nat had assigned them to do. He opened a milk carton and took a whiff, then drank directly out of the carton. Ignoring the glare from Pepper, he doubled down. “Of  _ course _ it’s at a pawn shop.” 

“Ugh, okay…” Pepper let out a heavy sigh and looked at the list again. She needed another hour, tops, to get the chairs in line, and she needed to figure out how she could magically get downtown to pay for Stephen’s stupid ring. Peter sidled up beside her, peeking over her shoulder at the list. 

“Need help, Miss Pepper?” 

“Peter, drop the ‘miss’, you make me feel like a schoolteacher,” she chided. She could text Stephen, ask him to stall. But what would Stephen even do? He was depending on Nat to provide seamless entry. Pepper couldn’t be the one to fuck up their special day (not even as payback, she wasn’t  _ as _ petty as her ex). “What would make Tony stop what he’s doing to go save the world?”

“Morgan or James,” Harley said, his voice completely monotone. “In danger, I mean.” 

“We’re not sacrificing the kids, thanks,” Pepper said dryly. “Next.” 

“A robbery!” Peter suggested. 

“That’s more up your alley, Pete,” Steve shook his head. “Tony would just let the police handle it.”

“Guys, hear me out -” Harley held his hands out in front of him for a dramatic pause. “Aliens.”

“Weirdly, I don’t think we’re going to be able to procure some aliens in the next thirty minutes,” Pepper folded her arms and leaned against the counter. “I’m asking you to think outside of the box, not outside of this galaxy.” 

“No! Hear me out. We don’t have to have  _ real _ aliens, we just need to have a projection,” Harley’s face was alight and he was clearly already scheming. “We can use Tony’s drones and the nanites. I can have it ready in fifteen minutes.” 

Pepper frowned, mulling it over. A projection would be ideal, nothing for Tony to actually shoot his repulsors at... To Harley’s delight, she finally agreed. “Fine. I think it could work. But  _ be careful _ . Stay in the parks or over the water. Don’t crash into any buildings, absolutely  _ no collateral damage _ , we don’t need any more negative press. I’ll call you when we get the ring, and for the love of god, don’t make him break out the cannons.” 

  
  


“ _ Mr. Stark! _ ” Peter’s voice crackled over the speaker on Tony’s phone. He could hear animalistic roars that sounded completely otherworldly. “ _...Battery Park… need help _ !” 

Tony and Stephen were walking up fifth avenue - hand in hand, grinning like fools - when they got the call. They barely glanced at each other before Tony had suited up and Stephen was creating a portal, the cloak settling on his shoulders from seemingly out of nowhere. 

“I got you, kid,” Tony reassured on his intercom. No matter what he was doing, he would always drop everything to help Peter Parker. 

Exactly ninety-three minutes later, Harley got the text from Pepper. He ended the projections, having the aliens meet their demise with an abrupt pyrotechnic show. He watched as Iron Man and Doctor Strange slowly descended from the sky, and Spiderman climbed down from the side of a skyscraper. His work was done. He just had to get back to the tower as fast as he could. 

  
  
  


“That would have gone a  _ lot _ smoother if butterfingers over here didn’t drop his sling ring -” Tony said somewhat ungraciously as he stepped through a portal directly into his bedroom. 

“ _ ‘Butterfingers _ ’?” Stephen balked. “I beg your pardon,  _ sir _ . What does your suit weigh - 9000 pounds? Because that’s what it felt like when I lifted your fatass in the air -”

“Can everyone stop yelling, please,” Peter stepped through the portal but his presence didn’t seem to affect the two older men. They bickered, loudly - Peter checked his phone to see a text from Pepper. 

_ Wtf is going on in there? _

“Mr. Stark, please,” Peter had removed his suit, but Tony and Stephen still donned theirs. They were in the middle of the room poking each other’s chests, flinging insults without taking a breath. “Doctor Strange…” 

“Really? Nice magic trick there, Houdini. It really seemed to enjoy the pretty lights. I’d like to add that it was  _ my _ repulsors that took it out,  _ for the record _ -” Tony went to poke the wizard again but the cloak slapped his hand away. “You really ought to take that fucking cloak off, I feel like it’s two against one and that’s just not fair.” 

“Life isn’t fair,” Stephen growled, “You should know that, Mr. Stark.” 

Peter could see where this was going from a mile away. He ran out of Tony’s bedroom as he saw them kiss, Tony’s armor clinking against Stephen’s belt… 

  
  


“Wanna go again?” Tony grinned, flopping onto his side to gaze at his sweaty  _ fiance _ . “I need a couple of minutes but today was pretty fucking exciting.” 

Stephen sighed into the crook of his arm. He didn’t really mean to have sex with Tony, but the opportunity kind of presented itself and he couldn’t say no. Tony was probably going to kill him for this. 

“I have to admit I haven’t been entirely forthright,” he turned to Tony, trying to give his best puppy-dog eyes. 

“Oh?”

“When I asked you earlier if you wanted to get married… I kind of meant today,” Stephen smiled slowly, trying to gauge Tony’s reaction. 

“Um… okay,” Tony made a strange face. He was trying to decide on the proper response but wound up gaping like a fish struggling for air. “I just… so you want to town hall this shit or what?” 

“We don’t have to. If you’d just get dressed, I believe sixty of our closest friends and family are waiting in the conference room downstairs,” Stephen got up from the bed and walked over to their closet and pulled out a gorgeous white tuxedo. “I had Marco make it for you the last time we went, if you didn’t eat dairy at lunch it should fit just fine.” 

“Fuck,” Tony laughed. This was real. This was finally happening! “I have to shower.” 

“I could join you.”

“Are you kidding me? These are my last few minutes as a free man. Get your own shower,” Tony hurled his shirt at him and got out of the bed with a grunt. “Besides… apparently I have to write my fucking wedding vows in thirty seconds.” 

“Just do what you always do,” Stephen smirked, throwing on his bathrobe. “Improvise.” 

  
  


The string quartet was playing in the background and Tony couldn’t get over how sweaty his palms were. He never liked to wear suits and he swatted Pepper’s hand away when she tried to button the top button. 

“Tony, you look like a total schlep if you don’t wear a tie,” She frowned, trying to force the maroon tie around his neck. 

“Then schlep I will be. It’s my wedding day, not yours,” he said curtly, but she gave him a look. “Sorry.” 

“Wear the fucking tie,” she smiled sweetly and kissed him on the cheek. 

Morgan marched out of her bedroom donning a beautiful light pink dress, layers of tulle floating in the air as she twirled. James came running out a moment later. His toddler legs didn’t take him as far as he wanted to and he screamed as Morgan got further and further away. Pepper went to go scoop him up and Tony turned to his daughter.

“Ready, Princess?” 

“I’ve been ready for years,” Morgan said with such a dry wit Tony laughed out loud. 

“ _ Years _ ? That’s a long time,” he took her hand in his as they walked towards the doors to the balcony. 

“Mom said you would marry Stephen two years ago,” she said matter-of-factly. “I just thought I’d be the flower girl, not James.” 

“Well sweetheart, this family is all about switching up gender norms,” he patted her on the shoulder when she looked up at him with a questioning face. “More on that later.” 

Pepper came up behind him, James in her arms. 

“Let’s do this,” she grinned, and together they walked towards the balcony.

It was exactly like Wanda’s vision from all those years ago. Morgan danced down the aisle like she owned the place, and James ran at full tilt to follow his sister, dumping the entire basket of flower petals at the beginning. Tony stole a glance at the crowd. It was full of people who had supported him over the years, people who loved him. Stephen’s friends from the Sanctum littered the crowd, their bright robes clearly visible. 

The sight before him took his breath away. There was a rather crudely constructed arch in the shape of an ‘A’, (perhaps Peter’s contribution?) but it was covered in eucalyptus leaves and various white flowers. Bruce stood directly in front of him, wearing something that looked awfully familiar, and Nat was standing to the left, wearing a silky red gown. Christine stood next to Stephen, the pale pink of her dress offsetting the blush on her cheeks. She couldn’t help but show off her dimpled smile. 

Stephen looked drop dead gorgeous. The brightness of his blue eyes seemed to stand out even more against the steely backdrop of Stark Tower, his hair tamed from their earlier activity. His tuxedo had a slightly different cut than Tony’s; he was a vision dressed all in black. He was smiling so widely and Tony thought he could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Pepper rubbed his arm consolingly as they continued to walk down the aisle.

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” she whispered.

“I’m not going to fucking cry,” he muttered back. Reality was slapping him in the face and he couldn’t believe he was finally here. Pepper gave him another peck on the cheek before she sat down, taking a struggling James out of Nat’s arms. Morgan sat beside them and the music started to fade away.

Tony zoned out as Bruce said his opening words. He took Stephen’s hands in his, no longer trembling, and they looked into each other’s eyes as Bruce spoke. 

_ Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your root was so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. _

_ Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. _

_ Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two. _

Christine was full out sobbing by the time Bruce finished speaking and she was struggling to keep quiet. Tony knew that quote quite well, it was from one of Stephen’s favorite books,  _ Captain Corelli’s Mandolin _ . It was no longer a mystery as to why Stephen had begun reading him excerpts from for the last few weeks. 

Years of pining, love, lust, misery, and heartbreak were finally coming to a head. They’d been through hell and back a few times and now they were in front of their closest family and friends, devoting their lives to each other. It felt surreal. He heard Bruce say something about vows and he nearly blacked out, but Stephen spoke up. His eternal savior.

“I’ll go first,” Stephen volunteered, clearing his throat. He reset his gaze on Tony’s face and Tony never felt more vulnerable. He was under a microscope, and Stephen was dissecting his every thought and feeling. He was completely unprepared. “All paths in my life have led me to you. That we should be paired together forever is, and always will be, inevitable.”

Tony flinched at that word but Stephen quickly moved on, his face stoic.

“You were my reason back then, my reason now, my reason every day. I choose  _ you _ . If you fall down, I will be there to pick you up. When you have cause to celebrate, I will be right there by your side. I pledge my life to yours. No matter where life leads me, I know that as long as you are there, that is where I am meant to be. I love you.” 

Tony couldn’t see. His eyes were inexplicably filled with tears and he just felt the stream pour down his cheeks, like he hadn’t cried enough today. For a moment he was thankful this was a much smaller event than his previous wedding, as now there was zero paparazzi present. 

“Oh, darling,” Stephen offered him a handkerchief and Tony tried to collect himself. 

“Why the hell did you go first? Fucking dick,” Tony patted around his eyes and he heard Pepper cough. “Sorry.” 

The time was now. All eyes were him and even though Tony took a forty-minute shower, it apparently was not enough to prepare a few sentences to precisely explain how much Stephen meant to him. Truly, there were no words - but he had to try. 

“Stephen, I… I love you. I love you more than I love myself and that says a lot,” Tony said, and heard titters from the crowd. Stephen smiled warmly. “You have taught me love and patience by providing me with a shining example, and I honestly can’t express to you how much you mean to me. I promise to be there for you always. When you’re sad, mad, or upset or happy or delirious, I will be there for you. When we get old and fat I’ll push your wheelchair -”

“I  _ highly _ doubt I will be decrepit first,” Stephen narrowed his eyes. 

“ _ Whatever _ the case may be, I devote my life to you,” Tony was shaking and he was so glad Stephen was being so calm and serene. “I love you Stephen Vincent Strange, and my life is better with you in it. No one compares to you.” 

Bruce waited for the sniffles to dissipate before he spoke again. Tony didn’t listen, instead paying close attention to the gentle curve of Stephen’s lips and the kindness in his eyes. He basked in the warmth of love emanating from the man before him. 

“I do,” he heard Stephen say. Stephen squeezed his hands and Tony had to mentally shift himself back into the present. 

“And do you, Tony, take Stephen to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” Bruce’s voice cracked but Tony didn’t steal a glance at his friend to see if he was crying or not. His focus was entirely on Stephen.

“I do,” he said, and he couldn’t believe the words were coming out of his own mouth. He felt distant, like he was completely detached from his own body, and he was merely watching his own wedding from afar. 

“By the power vested in me from some random website on the internet, I now pronounce you husband and husband!” Bruce said gleefully. “You can kiss now.” 

Cheers and laughter erupted from the crowd as Stephen leaned in and planted a coy kiss on Tony’s lips. 

“Oh, fuck that, c’mere,” Tony grabbed Stephen by the lapel of his suit and attacked Stephen’s mouth with his own. He could hear hollering in the background as he deepened the kiss and nothing else seemed to matter. Stephen was his and he was Stephen’s - their lives were forever intertwined and Tony couldn’t have been happier. 

  
  


“The uh… ice sculptures are a nice touch,” Tony noted. He was walking around with Nat, her arm hooked around his. She really had gone all out - the inside of his apartment was dressed in white tulle, flowers, light displays, bubble machines… it was almost gaudy. But he loved it all the same, and he loved Nat. She had done an excellent job. 

“Thanks, it was a last minute acquisition,” she sighed, the disappointment clear in her voice. “I had chocolate busts made of you and Stephen but  _ somebody _ dropped them this morning.” 

“Brings a whole new meaning to ‘eat your face’, doesn’t it?” Stephen appeared by his side, shoving a piece of chocolate into Tony’s mouth. “Imagine my surprise when I found half of your visage staring at me in the linen closet. Not a great hiding place, Nat.” 

“I did my best,” she shrugged. Bruce was waving wildly to her from across the room and she excused herself. 

“Enjoying yourself, Mr. Stark?” Stephen pulled Tony in for a loose embrace. 

“It’s alright, I guess,” Tony said dismissively, and when Stephen didn’t flinch, he added, “Kidding. I love this. Any other surprises for today? Quick honeymoon in the Triangulum galaxy? A new house in another dimension?” 

“No more surprises,” Stephen smiled, planting a kiss on Tony’s forehead. “My desire to thrill you for today is relegated to later in the bedroom.” 

“Excellent,” Tony pulled his body closer to Stephen’s and planted his head on his chest, listening to the most comforting sound in the world - the sound of Stephen’s heartbeat. 

The peaceful moment was interrupted in stereotypical fashion. Peter and Harley started hollering, parting the crowd, calling Tony’s name as they ran through. 

“What?” Unfazed, Tony gave them a look, his arms still tangled with Stephen’s. 

“Don’t be mad, but -” Peter started. Tony rolled his eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Peter started a  _ lot _ of phrases like this, and it usually meant Tony would actually be mad.

“What did you do?” Tony asked, his enthusiasm waning. 

“Well, we were just minding our own business -” Likely story. “When we heard something come from the alleyway, so obviously Harl and I went to check it out, and we found this thing behind the dumpster -”

“Sometime today, Mr. Parker,” Stephen added. Across the floor they heard Morgan squeal with delight. She ran towards her father at full speed, cradling a tiny, furry mass. Tony looked down to see a beautiful blue-eyed puppy, its gray fur shiny, its tiny face hidden with skin folds.

“Can we keep it, Tony?” Harley emerged from the crowd, looking spindly and sheepish as ever. 

Tony looked around. Three pleading faces were looking up at him (well, Harley was taller than he was), all begging, and the puppy let out an adorable yawn. 

“Happy wedding, honey,” Stephen kissed his forehead again and sighed. “Looks like we have a dog.” 

  
  
  


Months later, the monotony of marriage set in. Tony was enjoying it - it was a nice change of pace from years of being unsure or worried. He knew Stephen had his back and that was all that mattered. 

On the rare occasion Stephen was out on a mission with the Avengers, Tony was forbidden from joining (retirement was a bitch), but that didn’t stop him from being the “man in the chair”. He kept tabs on his friends, listening intently on the intercom. Currently, he was pissing Stephen off by rambling intermittently in his ear. 

“Y’know, I don’t think mauve was a great choice for the guest bedroom. It’s far too dark, no one will ever want to stay in there -”

“Tony, I’m trying to find an inter-dimensional fugitive, and this radio chatter  _ really isn’t helping _ ,” Stephen complained. “Do you think you could shut up for… I don’t know, at least seven minutes?” 

“Do you think we could spare the coms from your marital disputes? We’re kind of up shit’s creek here,” Rogers radioed in. “Also I agree with Tony, mauve is terrible.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Stephen growled, irritated. “You know we wouldn’t be in this position in the first place if  _ someone _ didn’t botch the first encounter, Mr. Man In the Chair.” 

“I didn’t botch it,  _ you _ didn’t notice he slipped into another dimension-”

“Cut the crap!” Rogers snapped. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., mute these two from the rest of the group until they figure it out, please.” 

Rogers’ audio cut out and Tony could only hear the ruffling of Stephen’s cloak and his heavy breathing. He was running, probably, and his silence only fueled Tony’s desire for his attention. 

“Hey, stupid,” Tony called into his earpiece. Stephen didn’t respond immediately. “I said hey,  _ stupid _ .” 

“What?” Stephen had stopped and was catching his breath. 

“I love you,” Tony said sweetly. 

“I love you, too,” Stephen’s voice softened. “Now will you shut the fuck up? I’ll call you when we’re done.” 

“Fine,” Tony agreed. “See you at home, dipshit.” 

“Douchebag.” 

With a click, Stephen signed off and F.R.I.D.A.Y. returned the radios back to normal. Tony sat back and listened to the chatter. Stephen would be home soon, safe and sound. When he arrived Tony would cook dinner while he was in the shower, they would eat and talk about their days. After that they would relax until bed.

It was all so perfectly domestic and pedestrian. It was the complete polar opposite of Tony’s life before. He smiled as he heard Stephen approach the fugitive and say something stupid as he caught him, something about Beyonce. That goofball of a man was his, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extreme delay, I was working on my other fic ;) Hope it's a satisfactory ending. Stephen actually googled those lovely vows, but Tony doesn't know that. 😂


End file.
